"Wear these" he said, pulling them from the stand.
He'd bought her those yesterday, a peace offering -
passive circles of metal, and plastic, and wood, and thread,
hanging from his extended hand.
She'd taken them quietly, picking them up
and feeling their weight,
pulling her down
"Thanks" she had said, a single response,
to all things unsaid -
the thoughts, buzzings in her head,
the sting behind her eyes,
the dryness in her throat,
belied by those circles.
Those pieces of wood, these circles of thread.