She speaks

She is an unplayed instrument:
a concubine at the west wing
left for her broken heartstrings.

Her body is a quiver:
weak like an empty wine glass
as it trembles at each bass.

She bites her lip to redden her wits,
slowly sips from her own spills
until the silence makes its kill.

But she speaks.
Her silence speaks volumes.

21/02/17
0:24