My lips pull
ever-so-slightly
as I swallow
before I set down
my emptied glass
and gesture that
you can take the other one.
I insist upon your refusal, before
I glance at my watch. "I have to go."
I rise from the bar stool, and smile at you.
I would have loved
to have been able
to hear you play
the drums
but we're from
two different ends of the spectrum
and I've been told
that the two
are never to mix.
We're like oil
and water.
One floats
above the rest.
Though, I'm not sure
which of us is which.
So, I wave and,
without another word
(because I'm not sure
I can make another
coherent sentence)
I leave.
DU LIEST GERADE
Something Unheard
ПоэзияYou’ll be the muse for my art and I’m sure that your clumsiness will inspire everything I do. Novel in verse. Unfinished #2 Co-written by s.m. brooks and n.m. w. 2015.
