Punches her in the face, breaking it up,
the problems of mankind something personal;
her mouth turns backwards flame-glowing
to a dislocated grin, a smashed mirror.
I cannot breathe. Liquid evaporating,
trying to sound casual, stiffening her pain.
The picture of her sticks at frame slippage,
straddling two images held apart slightly
audio hissing sound track of a dull morning.
An observer the observer stays calm
in stray silence, making that chance a pretence
of will; pulling away; remaining visible
in the midst of a deadly room in their mad household
throughout harmful streets in a clever town.