Her jaws are hinged shut
As his swing open wide,

Her head’s screwed on tightly,
His jerks side to side.

A practiced Stoic,
In silence she sits.

Her bored expressions
Say it’s not the first of his fits.

Completely different genres
Pulse through their veins,

Only the faintest hint
Of their song remains,

The faint harmony
Barely reaches my ear

As I watch the drama unfold
In my rearview mirror.

 

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