Speaking in purple patches
Was what frightened me.
The bats cast upon the wall
By hands so inconceivably large-
I could vanquish them by turning out the light.
And I could tell you found
Mutating your voice into one
That carried deep around the solar system walls,
Loud enough to be heard beyond Saturn,
Whilst draping me in a duvet
Did not chill me with fear.
Rather, it warmed me with security-
I manipulated a protective hand upon my head
By leaning like a puppy.
No, it was the language I didn’t understand:
The one you used with Mum when you left the room.
Your tone had cooled as you crossed the threshold,
Whilst hers was shrill like she’d fell,
Grazed her knee like me last week.
Both tried to keep it from me,
Hushed tones, big words, sentences
Worded like an ambiguous soliloquy.
But it all served to tell me just as well
As it would if I were your divorce lawyer.