she’d slice him up
with a few good adjectives
then run off
to the bedroom
crying
later he’d apologize
without transition words
while she’d stare at the ceiling, subdued
“where is the unity?
what is the point?”
i’d ask myself, as the observer
but there was always that
floor buffer in the kitchen closet
and for a week or two
everything would again shine
by mary ann blinkhorn
written for Three Word Wednesday
words: buffer, unity, and transition
mypenandme 