How do you feel when you two fight? she asks,
studying my body’s every move. Dim
light can’t hide my fingers flinching, my task
of faking repose. I leave. Hit the gym,
I reply. Fearful? she prods, not letting
me flee. Or maybe I take in a film.
Give her time to find herself. I’m sweating.
Your flights of fantasy. Fatal visions.
Tell me about those. She folds her hands, finds
my eyes. I fumble with the couch pillow.
Sometimes I’m walking a high wire, blind-
folded. I start to fall…Legs grow willow.
I can’t stand. Look…don’t push me down that path!
She leans back. Whispers, Let’s talk about faith.
Roger Armbrust
June 9, 2009
