Unseen postures

I caught my crooked silhouette

folded wrong on the couch,

leg tucked beneath like a secret,

a shadow hunched in quiet,

limbs tangled where nobody looks.

No polished pose, no stiff smile,

just the slump of a body

holding less guard, less story.

The mirror shows a cracked frame,

posture unbrushed, undone.

I sit here, unrhymed,

the shape of how I am alone.