unusually demure
her face reddens
tips down (shame?
fear? abandonment?)
avoids the question.

her eyes zip from
side to side quick
as a predatory cat
i can’t tell if she’s
nodded or shaken
the truth from her head.

i will know soon
but just as our own
questions burn between us
soon is not now
now is not tomorrow
and tomorrow (i) fear
is a little too late.