Maybe you think I don’t notice that bruise on half your face. You light the room with a smile and a dignified calm.
But I wish I could grab him by the throat and not let go until I know that he will never touch you again.
Except with love.
But how can I know unless you tell me? And how can you tell me unless you trust me? And how can you trust me when you just met me and he calls your phone and you need to go before we even know each other?
We say goodbye with an embrace, two kisses, and a few besides.
Then I stand and watch you walk away, wishing I knew the you behind that sparkling smile.
And that black eye.