when pointing out the obvious, she would
let her eyes roll and spin, the gravity of your
ignorance pulling on their tendoned orbits.
Specifically, when asking questions she knew
there were no answers to, her voice
would lift extra high - "How many times
must I tell you?", "How many years
must this go on?" - the glass of her composure
vibrating dangerously, every molecule in distress.
Funny, in the end, knowing
she wouldn't make it, how high her voice
became, how tired those spinning eyes, lost
for glint and glitter, the whole of her shaking
like a house, a city, a star, about to be