Abuse is subtle Nothing friends see You’re blamed for his mistakes He credits your work to himself. Observes you’re “almost” thin enough Implies small things lacking If only you were smarter, prettier, quieter He laughs when you fail Photographs your clumsiness Ignores your success Mumbles under his breath the whispered threat “I’m getting angry.” He pouts childlike when ignored Hovers over you in arguments He buries the kitchen table in papers Resists clearing it even for parties. Holds your arm tightly lest you leave The Christmas tree he promises to take down remains up until Easter. His hatchet for cutting up chicken for the dogs rests against the hoosier. It gives you pause. He harangues you while you book vacation. You select the seats. You’re in 13A He’s in 32B.