We Need to Talk

Just look at him
leaning forward, straddling the chair
legs looped around the rungs
ballcap bill smudged from his earnest tugs
picking at the paint beneath his nails
facing the constant jiggle of my foot.
A fly lights on the table between us
and I strangle every drop from my teabag.

K. Hildebrand
This poem first appeared in Fourteen Hills.