The Aftermath

The air is thick
with tension bits,
conversation dangling
just out of reach.

We sit in the silence
accompanied by a low

playing television
ignoring energy buzzing
between our heads.

We could easily resolve this,
go back to laughing and cuddling
if you could admit that
questioning my faithfulness
makes me insecure about your faith in me,
makes me wonder about your possible indiscretions,
makes me question if you’re trying to find a way out.

We sit in silence, three feet apart on the couch
staring at a television characters who don’t matter,
taking turns sighing out the anger
and inhaling flames of frustration
and sneaking sideways glances at the other.

But the first one who speaks
loses.