He smiles
dressed in manners
dressed casual
in slacks
standing five foot 
nothing
within arms reach 
of you
looking beautiful
without makeup
noticing 
that we are
sharing glances
not words
speaking only
under the conditions
of cell phone text
and computer I.M.'s
under
screen names 
and dial tones
supposedly friends
seeing something
in one another
and with our eyes closed
we give 
second chances
third chances
and so on
never letting
go become an option
stay brave
for a day
with options halting
at a standstill
save face 
for a day
saying 
you don't want to lose me
beaming towards a mirror
feeling sorry
for yourself 
in the event of a shatter
keeping 
your back to me
at all times
unimposed
drowning your few words
with a lump in your throat
speaking only
in apology
which is a fancy word for
bullshit
which is an artful look at
manipulation
a spectacle
for the phony your with
looking on you as you
tear me to pieces
and throw me to the wind
expecting me to always 
blow back to you
how depressing
how elementary
but hey...
that's you.