No More Than 10 Words

We spoke little to each other all afternoon.

Marvelled at the devastation words can leave. On opposite sofas you smouldered, I quietly cooled. Will there be no salvation today? No salve for the cuts we inflicted on each other.

I clipped print from newspapers. Arranged them into things I wished I could say. You, straight-backed, never looked up from your book. The clock ticked.

At five I caught you glancing at me. I quickly looked away. You served a word to me. Pitched it over the line in our living room. Stubborn. Humourless, I tossed back. Petulant. Arrogant, I said. But. You make me laugh. A pause. Can I just say? No, don’t. I. love. you. Which was enough.

We went to bed and back to silence. Clutching and breathing each other in as it got dark.