her aura is opaque
Spring green eyes, a trademark
the passive frown she holds
claims all takers

after three weeks in therapy
her answers are getting vague
apparently
or perhaps it’s the questions
lulling her into lies

I saw her in the hall today
this corridor of shame
where a head held high threatens all
and somehow a smile, confesses truth

I asked if she felt like smoking with me
you know, outside
where light has a color
and sounds refute sterility
but she couldn’t answer right then
as the first pill of the day had her

in my ignorance, I smiled and said
nothing, yet she had heard enough
from me

and I watched her pass
washing the walls with her palms
each tile an important tone
a texture only she could feel

I wanted her to turn back
but my role call was next
and I had a story to design
for the smiles that love to listen
between coffee breaks and paperwork