Dancing whispered fear, she carefully choreographed
his evening meal, heart fluttering like a wounded sparrow
as the beat of his feet ground his presence to her consciousness.
Contrary to Pavlov’s dog, the lazy metronome of his breathing, in
then out, spawned a psychic desert. Her well-worn footwork
and gestures remained instinctive as he sang once again
his favourite song. She followed his lead, the subtle signs giving
encouragement of her subservience which she plated
and served to him with a side order of prayer. His appetite increased
as he feasted and though she fed him the entirety of her independence
he craved more. With mismatched souls at counterpoint
his swaggering presentation cowed her naked melody,
stilled her perfect timing. This small kitchen setting, was
stage made for a ubiquitous, repeat performance of
his potent unrestraint.