I Deny
The utensil dances on my plate;
I refuse to look—I deny my fate.
And over the shouts—
The laughter—
The clinking—
I feel my heart,
My body—
Sinking.
Then I hear—my fear:
Your voice—your jeer—
So I veer—
Eyes upon your sneer.
Alarum
As finger touches finger
And sigh fills sigh —
The alarm sounds off,
And I ask — gasp —why?
Ten thousand things
Found wrong with this —
Though I cannot run
From this — this bliss.
As finger touches finger
And sigh fills sigh —
I hate you — wait, you —
The end — is — nigh.
