Let there be small talk
And I swear I will try not to lose myself
In the valleys you create
Between the lines
I will respond
My replies will be the songs
I send soaring up with the winds
But it’s only the air conditioner
Breathing down our necks
Don’t notice my hands
These fidget-machines
They trace the torn outlines of the menu card
The warm rim of the soup bowl
And leave it to the eyes
To run a 100 meter dash right up your arm
Taking a roundabout
And settling by the shores of brown
Your warm, beautiful eyes.
And yes, I will smile
At my pitiful attempts to distract and disguise
To avoid the overkill
Of apocalyptic proportions
To not let you know
That this is so.
So let there be small talk
Chit-chat of no consequence
Don’t let the silence spell out
Things left unsaid.
#101DaysofPoetry Day 5
#NowPlaying Hello, You Beautiful Thing by Jason Mraz
Love the metaphor of the fidget machines
ReplyDeleteBeautifully expressed!
ReplyDeleteKeep writing!