You said all the right things
at all the right times,
and I’m charmed with your words,
until those words lose meaning.
I’ve forgotten how it sounds
when you say something real.
I study your hand instead;
pudgy knuckles nervously flick your cigarette.
You keep talking,
but your blue eyes refuse to meet mine.
You talk until I forget what you’ve said.
I nod my head,
provoke more words,
so I wait for them to make sense;
I wait for youto finally say something worth hearing.