Domesticity (pasta cooked past al dente)

Now quiescent words
Between us—
Earlier it was all howling shouts
Starting those
Angry tears that I hate so much.
Shaking, shaking,
A sapling expecting to survive a hurricane…

Then, what was it
About the way I was standing
Spoon in hand like a weapon,
The water boiling over and creating a hiss?
What was it that made you deflate faster
Than me reaching over and
Turning off the burner?

Now, silence,
We sip wine and
Eat pasta cooked a minute
Past al dente.

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