She was better bred

She was better bred

She stood by the window
softly humming to herself
a desolate tune.

She always did hum,
almost soundlessly,
whenever her heart froze
and the fire of anger
smouldered and burned
within its icy barrenness.

She felt the bitter shadows
of the sense of hurt
lengthening within her.

The insults hurled by him
had grated her gentle heart
like sand paper, until
it was raw and bleeding.
Like darts, some had struck home,
while others hung in the room
with latent, sinister intent.

She froze in silence and remained;
that state of calm withholding suited her.

The silence of her,
sliced through him
keener than vocal anger-burn.
He shrivelled; he pleaded
with a well acted remorse,
as he always later did;
wished she would scream,
call him names,
and let that sound dissolve
the icy silence.

She would not oblige;
she was, by far, better bred.

~ Krishna ~
30 Sept 2001

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