He taunts her in a crowd of friends and she smiles
Tells everyone who listens, and some who don’t
That she is cold, ignorant, distant like ice or stone
Do they all see what he has to put up with?
He grins overdoing the sympathy swing
As her arms tighten over her midriff shielding
Trying to avoid the verbal slingshots by staying dead still
Like the hunted in the glare of hunter just before
When it’s end is in sight or it flies to safety
Why you ask doesn’t she move, do something?
A fair question if you but only understand it
She is not always afraid of the aftershock
But the times she is less than successful in her deeds
Are the times she pays and heavily
Every move, thought of thought must be planned
Each word chosen with such precision
Still she doesn’t know if what was a fine peace move
For yesterday will again work or there’ll be questions
So she stands there quiet awaiting a queue
And it could so easily be the wrong decision
Don’t look through her like the unseen guest at a party
Speak but take care not for too long
Smile but be sure it’s not too often
See but be certain it’s not too closely
Now do you understand her dilemma?
Now do you see her glacial fear not knowing
If, when, how, who changing rules
The mask is painted to give protection
Don’t ask her to remove it
It’s all she has left of herself.
© AilsaCawley Poetry 2015