January 20th, 2007

An inconsistent standard in my life.
How can one that means well
Wax cold?

"Let's hang out"
--he says.
I eagerly go.
But nine times out of ten
happened nine times ago.

I feign pleasure at my odds.

Talking at him
While he stares at his mobile,
I can't help thinking of
That painting of the man
with the apple in his face.

Or is it of an an apple with a fleshy backdrop?

Either way, I've never
Claimed to understand it.

But I love it.

Just like I've never claimed to understand him.

...But I love him.