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.