I sit motionless
Letting the strangled screams
Of a rare domestic dispute...
Or rather, a balls out, shit fest
Pour out from the windows of a near-by town house
And pour in through my open porch door.
Embarrassed for their naked expression
Empathetic ... even sad... for the pain,
Pain that is yet to replace the red searing fire
Burning so brilliantly in two wretched hearts.
... and it is quiet now.
Real pain... is somewhere brewing.