And knowing how i'd shake sometimes, He asked if i could help explain his wife's anxiety, Saying every time he tried to be her sounding board, He – in his lack of understanding – Became more an object of envy While simultaneously reflecting her own disdain for The stranger she found herself exchanged for in his chest like a mirror where – For some reason – The love behind it beat at regular intervals and normal patterns, And only skipped when, and i quote, "she'd beat electric fists into me, Like defibrillating a healthy heart while she was under arrest." And she begged him to understand but – and i quote – "i can't" And knowing how she'd shake sometimes, And try to communicate through stutters when the cogs in her mind jammed And caught the wheel of another thought vying for her attention, I – oh almighty i – Became more a silver lining Combined with a witch available to burn depending upon the outcome, Like maybe my tongue could breed magic that douses the fires, And i quote, "staked between us. They are high." (And i surmised, "and getting higher.") Maybe i'll light the match myself. I thought of my own wife and wondered if either of them knew What they'd gotten themselves into When they got into it With us.