In the witness box

Painting by Mary Jane Q.Cross
I swear to tell the truth,
and nothing but the whole truth.
Your Honor,
I still remember when
she packed life leaving
the crumbs in his aching chest
when it was raining.
( Can you see my righ hand high?)
She was not guilty
of being less than perfect
even when she was dishevelled
or of feeling spiritually inadequate
when she raised her hands,
as he frowned behind the glass door.
(I hope nobody objects to it)
She could never understand
his world of troubles and pains,
his latent discontentment.
(she wasn't born to wait in line and sit tight)
One day, your Honor,
she lied with her arms
wrapped around herself.
It was when loneliness spoke
for the first time.
She heard it with her eyes half open,
grieving until her tears turned into
devotion for herself.
(she was lost in his bruised world)
I can affirm
she sprouted wings.
( nobody saw when she flew back and fell into me )
Karla Bardanza
Copyright©Karla Bardanza 2012

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