Until she tipped her hand

Until she tipped her hand
she showed the tipping point of,
the full brim of,
the fury at the fatherless father,
concluded the gain not worth the bother.

and I saw my bedroom,
the well,
was deeper than I’d thought,
longer than any of the cords that over
the years and canyons,
I bare-handedly bought.

so I lingered,
longly in bed,
nothing more was said.