
I sigh entranced by the husk of cheap larger
Clawed onto the wood of the desk
Never has the fate of my psyche rest so delicately
On the fringe of a single number
Oh who knows what lies behind
The other side of reactionary protocols
Did you answer my pleas?
Or did you leave the screen on
While you open another bag of caramel popcorn?
Did you grit your teeth
As you reluctantly offer an arm?
Did your eyes start to moisten
As you demand to know of my lack of heart?
The entire globe can be undone, just after a click of the button
I’ll pull back my chair and make another brew downstairs
“After this one I’ll find out, though I said that 47 brews ago
But I swear I mean it this time!”
As I pour brew number 53
Into the mug you got me for my birthday
I slowly drag my heels up the stairs
And into your line of sight once again
I don’t deserve to have even gotten your attention
I don’t pray for much, but please god…