you are an effigy of nonchalant affection
ripped jeans in the snug corners of a hollow december
i think you knew what i meant when i said nothing—
unsung feelings, glances laced with vitriol
you watched me sink into paperback novels
i lived in my head all the time
you did not understand me playing
tic
tac
toe
with my emotions, bleed as they might
for lyrical mastery
and the intricacy of a sob story
but i reeked of apathy, really
fish dead eyes at screaming lovers
smug faces at tragedies
my apartment crying for me;
i think i was scary
sigaro,
señor, won't you light it for me?
please close the door on your way
out
intruders love me more than you do.
you should dress warmer in december
and cry in the taxi home
and sleep under the neon lights
of a barman's generosity
maybe you and i are a hiccup
in this seamless anecdote of
a perfect love
