With bitten lips and tear-burnt eyes
you tell her your new tragedy she listens to the hurt and pain and smiles as she writes it down in her mind what you cannot say, she will shout for you or sing, or whisper- whatever you prefer her arms are tight around you as you spit your angry words and she listens and remembers and tones them into music into her world and she dances as she tells your story and makes faces when you’re happy and cries with you when you need her not everyone can hear her some believe she says nothing real she’d never lie, but they don’t understand when she speaks, they hear gold-toned lies or steel-stained epithets or excuses for more hate but her gift is taking words from you and touching them with a silver finger and giving them her beauty and it doesn’t matter if they hear her right if they understand your feelings she’s trying her hardest for you
