The overturned cup
Coffee residue splattering on the ground
There were little black spots on your trousers
and I focused on that filth while you
were divulging the ruins of your character.
I didn’t dare look up.
I left your words attached to my skin,
like a layer of poison I could consume at will
If I let them pierce my ears
streams would fall
and I didn’t want to give them to you.
You can call it spite if you want
but I wouldn’t let those little drops fall
They aren’t worth a dime to you
You would probably use them
to wash away the filth from your trousers.
Don’t forget that my first novel is available on Amazon: Little Rebellion
Also you can get my poetry books: Rehab and Identity crisis
Oh, I forgot to include taking sudafed for sinuses that need to be dried up!
Chuck
😊😁👍