When she sees him
a fist flies:
an arc freeze-framed by a strobe light
of lucidity and blackening rage.

The person attached to the fist changes.
The person bruised by the fist changes.
The arc always stays the same.

When she sees her
a reminder is pinned
on a burnt bulletin board:
a pile of ashes flutters at the bottom
when her feet shuffle close for her to look.

The person pinning the note changes.
The person written on the note changes.
The flutters always stay the same.

She told herself
escaping left that life there.

She says this aloud, sometimes,
as she absently
rolls a lighter in her fist.