Pantoums of November

She rolls the napkins, smooth and neat,
His laughter cuts like a paper’s edge.
The pretty rings a small retreat,
He taunts her with a mocking pledge.

His laughter cuts like a paper’s edge,
“Napkin rings don’t hide your folding flaw.”
He taunts her with a mocking pledge,
She swallows angers, raw and raw.

“Napkin rings don’t hide your folding flaw,”
A cruelty draped in humor’s guise.
She swallows angers, raw and raw,
And sees her worth through red-blue eyes.

A cruelty draped in humor’s guise,
She rolls the napkins, smooth and neat.
And sees her worth through red-blue eyes,
The pretty rings a small retreat.