by Susan Scutti
She enters like infection, unnoticed yet contaminating every molecule
Sentimentality pads her like fat cells to see her through famines of true affection
She lingers in happenstance and past-tense and yellowing houseplant leaves
Her smiles are false, her dignity compromised
She is injected doubt
She is containment
She is the stutter on your tongue, the tremble in your knees
As I read this I was thinking of one’s ‘other self’ and how different that person is from who we normally are or perceived to be…a very interesting write…I like it.
Excellent personification of the more than uneasy we’ve all felt. The yellowing house plant, the tremble in your knees. Insightful and taut. Mary Orovan