The Percievable Cadence In Casual Discourse

You sit, bare feet folded beneath you, plucking marshmallows from your cocoa

Telling me about how you fought with your mom today.

My eyes are trained on you but my mind is turned away and I'm not listening.

I wonder if the movements your lips are making

When you talk

When you breathe

Glide the same way as when we kiss.

I probably will apologize for paying more mind to you

Than to the stories you are telling

But for right now I just want to watch

Like a child mesmerized by the lights on the car radio

Letting the sounds pile up like refuse in the back of his mind

Wondering how the hell something so small could be that perfect.

The End

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