Feb 25, 2006 09:29
an edited and i hope final version but we'll see -
and now i go back to work,...because that's what i do.
It Isn't Exactly Talking
You sprawled yourself feral on the bed
pawing a bottle in your fingers.
And I, agent-in-training gazed steadfast at the ceiling,
while I waited for you to ask what I was thinking.
Between us, I was satisfied to be silent.
Afraid of getting drenched, I stuck out
a white flag umbrella. You ducked inside
a mud dug trench, benched behind my next sentence.
My muscles are tired from mopping us up.
So for the sake of saving time
give me a bottle cap to twist between my fingers,
I’ll give the polygraph in the morning.