Quiet Elegance

You called it quiet elegance.

The bite your tongue,

watch your mouth,

mind your language


Draped in satin I walked

your walk,

talked your talk,

kept myself inside the lines.

It wouldn’t do to smudge.

The first time I spoke back,

you laughed.

The second time you frowned

and the third time,

I thought I saw a fist.

I didn’t turn the other cheek.

I laid you bare,

stripped out the marrow of you

and passed it to the next woman,

told her to look.

This is the man buying you flowers.

This is his quiet elegance.


Daily Prompt: Elegant 


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