Sarah says her new apartment

Sarah says her new apartment

has a great view.

Across the diner table,

her smile is bright,

a little too wide,

like a stretched rubber band.

My tongue feels thick,

a lump of unsaid truth.

I know her view is

the back of her ex's sofa,

the one with the threadbare armrest.

I just nod,

swallow the too-sweet coffee,

and pretend to believe her.

It’s like holding a hot coal

in my mouth,

but I can't spit it out.