Unspoken Narratives

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A late glum afternoon takes place;
two stilled shadows occupy space,
seated on warmth-less corners,
sipping cold, stale coffee...it alters
not, a pricking, awkward quietness,
both alternate, share flitting glances.

Timid, uncertain thoughts
enslave, and sway to and fro,
none wants to be uttered
they block the throats,
trapped...nowhere to go.
into lumps, they've turned.

Two restless shadows inhale
and take time to exhale
unspoken narratives are set free,
all spewed in one long, deep sigh.
a love that's gone awry,
meanders...and takes flight,
suddenly, their verses they can't write
why can't they do things right?
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They're couplets, no longer spliced
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no cadence left, just estranged rhymes
hesitating...dangling on in their minds.
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A soured silence lingers,
bearing a scene in faded watercolors
their spirits, so shaded with pallor.
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sally b

Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
September 11, 2019