conversation 1

Me:     I thought I told you I locked my writing

            And hide it from my dirty hands

You:    But you, you write beautifully

Me:     But they are only words

           And we are all sinners

           And I don’t want to conceive them

           In such ugly terms

(Silence heard across the room)

           Besides,

           They don’t want me anyhow.

You:    but they do! They feel orphans without you

           They feel alone without your touch

Me:     Don’t make them hopeful

           Just don’t

           I told you

           I wouldn’t like

           To bring them to spare times

You:    they’re your only choice

Me:    I’m going to die before writing another verse

You:   why don’t you choose to fascinate the whole world instead?