On Her Behalf

Your silence–
The fact that you chose it.
It hurts her, wounds her
Not to hear from you.
It’s not her trust issues–
She gave you every ounce she has,
It’s the reassurance,
The presence, that lacks.
She will never tell you this,
Thinking it’s for her own consumption.
That she must not bother you
With her musings, her life
Her death, her everything.

Read what she writes–
She’ll always be too shy,
But she’ll smile knowing
You bother with her ambiguities.
Read it while she sleeps,
While she’s out, or busy
Read it while she’s away
Read when she’s not looking.
Tell her what you think,
If you love it, or disagree–
Tell her how it makes you feel,
If it speaks to you
Or not.

Look out for the little things:
Her blase, downcast eyes
The slope of her back
The corner of her elbows.
Know the small details–
Her imperfections
The way she slurs
Or yawn, or stare–
Reasons why she isn’t the same
Reasons why she stands out.
Tell her these, or
Perhaps
Write.

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