The Psalmist

by David Andrés Alíx

I was near enough to realize the lines around your eyes and the bust vessels around your irises, incongruent with your youth and beauty

Had you been crying intensely, inconsolably, in your privacy? Your body tensed and shaking; face contorted as if screaming, without a sound?

Astonished to discover your willingness to consider a new lover, and other matters too terrible to utter out loud?