The coffee cups lay dormant.
The milky skin-
That suggests we’ve waited a little too long to take a sip-
Says far more about our relationship than
our words ever could,
and it breaks as my knee jogs the table.
The colour resumes as normal.
We both go to talk at the same time, same thing, same tone.
We are the same
In that our hesitance to admit this is wrong, to us,
makes it right.
“I don’t regret it”
he mumbles unconvincingly.
I bow my head to hide my eyes
(they cannot lie);
“Nor I.”
xXx
No comments:
Post a Comment