“To be honest, ” she said as if
lying would be nothing new,
“I seriously thought about
not telling you.”
The sentence rolled between them
like a marble on a table
with uneven legs –
never finding a place
to fall still.
She watched,
wondering if he’d pick it up -
scared that he would, terrified
that he may not,
she waited.
He said simply, “I’m glad you did.”
And she…
suddenly wished she hadn’t.
Christine Austin Cole
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/lost-marbles-a-coffee-shop-tragedy/
