The urge

Beethoven’s string quartet plays in the background

adding to the melancholic beauty of the morning

the way gentle sun rays sleepily peep in

through the window to finally settle

on the vase with a single white rose

which is on the verge of disintegration,

is so pulchritudinous, that it makes me want to cry

I furiously blink away the dampness

as we sit across each other sipping morning tea

the only sound one can hear

is the clattering of teacups on the plates

and the rustle of the newspaper

the veritable silence before the storm

a keening begins in my chest constricting my throat

and thunderous, vituperative thoughts clamour my mind

I am ready to confront him unable to take it anymore

he looks up from the newspaper and smiles beatifically

and the moment passes.

VJ’s Weekly Challenge: Urge

53 thoughts on “The urge

  1. Punam, relatable poem. I have learned that outbursts may lead to regret…maybe I have been mistaken, maybe I am still half asleep, or maybe he just has something on his mind or didn’t hear me. Things will probably work out if we show a little patience and understanding. ❀ Very insightful poem!

    Liked by 1 person

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