As My Eyes Quiver

by The Cowl Editor on March 3, 2019


by Kiley McMahon ’20

The smell of alcohol lingers on his breath,
and the cup that he has just poured is caffeinated.
The two will wire him up to the greatest extent,
not that he needs to be any more excited.

My eye quivers,
it is still black and blue,
and the back of his fist,
remains of purple descent.

I have a disposable phone,
and my children,
ready to go.

He leaves for work,
drunk and caffeinated,
one final sloppy kiss,
and a grinning remark,
that I can no longer understand.

My final goodbyes,
are a blessing in disguise.
I move on my merry way,
away from black eyes,
and away from bloody,
purple fists.

Black eye
Photo courtesy of Pavel Ševela