Poem 14

The guilt that you like me

The guilt I don't like you

is ripping the seams in my stomach.

I can't even look you in the eye.

I can't stay in this bathroom longer.

Flight is not an option.

You watch me from across the room,

You watch in quick glances

guarding every smile that greets my own.

Patent in how you touch my shoulder, my arm,

Patent in your posture,

You wait for me to answer your questions,

probing questions about me,

questions I don't want to answer.

It is such an easy kindness to talk to you,

but is it kinder not to?