Vent away, she says with a smile.
Eventually, I respond, it won’t be
Necessary. We ponder in silence.
Generally, she suggests,
Everyone needs some kind of release.
Anger isn’t always a weakness.
Nevertheless, I say. It’s firm, soothed with a tiny smile.
Carefully, we negotiate each shift of topic;
Echoing throughout: our shared agenda,
Itching to be heard, made real,
Surging tide beneath our keels.
Long silences are loqacious here and now.
I pause yet again, reach to touch her hand.
Victory is in the little things.
Impishly, she all-but grins,
Nods.
Gathering ourselves, we rise on cue,
Wander out into the sunshine,
Exiting a chapter that didn’t give us much to say.
Lost in the dazzle for a moment, she tips her head back,
Laughter arcing into free air.
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