Chatterbox

I talk too much. It’s a device I use

To keep you here, attentive. So you stay

If only for politeness’ sake, my ruse

Frustrating your intent to run away.

 

At first you seem impressed, but soon you’ll tire

Of my incessant chatter. I can sense

The depth of your discomfort. You desire

Release, but how to leave without offence?

 

Inevitable, I will let you go

But wish I could be selfish, hold you prisoner

Forever. Were that possible, I know

I would despise the disenfranchised listener.

 

Will ever come the man whose impulse is

To silence me, but only with a kiss?

First published in Reach

 

 

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