I see the two-sided gleam in her eyes,
as she shovels my every word into her mouth,
and spits it back out with little of her own.
Every so often her husband,
(I'm not sure which trinket belongs to who,
they've been hanging off each other all evening)
tugs her closer to clear up something she said,
as if he's polishing her thoughts.
I've seen little of her mental coffers,
but I've seen even less of his.
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