What painful laughter. Her eyes reveal its presence–smiles split her face. And her frame shudders, and her voice breaks.
Her eyes, I said. The rest is plain-old mirth. Wonderful as always, but easily dismissed. Her eyes, I said. Her misty, mirthless whites.
That’s the place I look. Can’t dismiss the sight, the added inspiration. The painful laughter piece. Can’t dismiss the sight. Her misty, mirthless whites.
So when she laughs, I see the pain.
We laugh that way prolonged.