Just As I Am Leaving, I Notice

across the room

my sister sits barren.

her laughter rests

in the roof of her mouth.

a smile hangs loosely

upon her lips,

like a crooked painting

on a cold wall.

sad, the shadows shift

back and forth,

like finger puppets.

she likes to watch them

dance. her midnight eyes

drifting from sun bleached

afternoon into evening's ash. she never complains.

she never cries. to spill

a tear would be to her

like dropping an obscenity

into God's clean ear.