Half-Light Thrum

Her laughter cracks across the bar,

a flash of silver, a hidden ring.

Her eyes dart past me—gone, afar,

something new she doesn’t bring.

I try to speak, words swallowed deep,

music drowns the sharp-edged space.

The tilt of her smile is not for me,

a secret locked behind her face.

Jealousy hums low, tight—

a thread pulling tight in half-light.

A shadow I can’t shake away,

sticky, stinging, slow decay.