The Wife

The wife Her eyes are never seen She hides inside from crowding streets She has a tongueless mouth, always whispering According to him According to him she is An angel with claws and tender bones Always does what she's told Her blood dried on the kitchen walls She lives inside a bone bowl of which no one knows Green moss is taking over her feet She is not meant to see, nor to be seen She is the wife no one knows about She is She is the wife You hear she's breathing too loud A fair reason, leave her tonight As you drop her in the middle of the sea Watch her float and sink into bliss The smell of warm tears and gold The sound of her aching bones, clattering on white tiled floors