Even afterwards, she seemed innocent enough,
still made an awkward meal of simple things,
groped for words as haplessly as any unlovely girl.
She came under no suspicion, thanked
her jittery heart for putting her tongue in bondage,
how could she have confessed the cause of that migraine?
The radiated symbol when she closed her eyes
of the light bulb, the tungsten heart that lingered -
counter-impression of the darkness, when he switched
the lamp off with his thumb, caressing the wire,
the picture of flesh that stayed with her throughout the aftermath.
Mercifully, he was ashamed of his body too.