The vase of creamy, dreamy peonies posed
a series of scenarios she tried 
to track and trace across his face
so she would know what her she should supply. 
She chose the sweet, submissive her she knows
will keep his ruthless rage and fists away.
A smile complete across her bitten lips,
she tests a touch to gauge his mood and if

he’ll let her leave the cage. “Are these for me?” 
Lowered lashes, reading the room, she knows
the ways to weave herself to keep him calm. 
Her tiny finger brushed the velvet blooms,
“I made your favorite, chocolate almond tart,”
She served dessert with freedom in her heart.