Love

Love 

She doesn’t know how the drapes came to be zippered shut before the window. But they did. And locked. His light got tied back behind his ears. The ball cap helped keep it in place. So when she met him that day for lunch, she was blind to the beauty he offered. There was no light pushing the sounds of love forward onto her plate of food. The meat was tough and the barbarian within signaled to her to take it into her own hands. Bite hard and pull ferociously at what remains outside the mouth. Just yesterday she accused him with small words of cheating. He assured her with bigger words that that was not the truth. At lunch it became all too much and he cried tears onto wilted lettuce. They left for home without eating, her hand in his. She doesn’t know how the drapes came to be open before the window.  In tender light she lifted her skirt and invited him to come home.