Let’s Talk

Here we are
Begging for conflict
In silence.
Mysteries and mistakes
Thumping in our throats,
We prepare for injury
Even a breath breaks.

We’ve the high-pitched squeal
Of an ear correcting itself,
Calibrating for the task ahead
And silence.

The kind of silence John Cage
Each one of us waiting
As his patrons,
Participating in a different sort of performance.
A conversation between
Tense lips and unmatched glances,
The sound of saliva swallowed
Too forcefully and the
Scraping of our clothes
Trying to adjust to our bodies
As they brace for impact.

And just as I’ve nearly completed
Preparation for my offensive
The arguments almost solidified into
Comprehensive construction,
Just as the sentences are strung together,
I speak
And these words of mine latch onto a topic
Of greater ease.
And we’re talking about the weather.

June gloom, huh?

We choke on
casual conversation,
inhale collectively
And somehow decide to begin.

You laugh,
I scoff
And off we go
With the telling of intentions
And motives that manipulated our actions.
The latent atomic force has given way
to its explosive desires.
And off we go.

I have no need for these retellings of the past.
It’s too recent to be revisited.

Each argument can only be rephrased
So many times. We’re
Contradicting and confusing
Our own logic.

I don’t have enough words for this conversation.

I don’t even know what we’re attempting
With this dialogue.
For whose benefit are we speaking?
It has already been decided.

I know what I’m fighting for,
But you have already decided.

And what are you fighting for
When you say you can’t have me?
It’s four in the morning and you’re bent down
Beside me.
I can’t tell
If you’re remorseful or threatened
Obligated or in love.
You say you “care for me.”

It’s the worst sort of insult,
Parading around as praise:
“I care for you.”
I care for many people,
Not you.
I love you.

© Shea Depmore
Steal money.. not words.


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