"You're too persuasive
for my own good,"
I said to him.
He looked at me
and grinned,
saying nothing.
The thought was there, though:
"I haven't said anything,"
he might've replied
in transparent innocence,
both of us knowing better.
"No," I would've answered.
"You didn't have to. Your lips
didn't speak a word.
It was your hands
that did the talking
and your eyes, the persuading.
Your lips just silently,
softly, hungrily
argued your cause."
And he would have smiled
that smile
that takes what I say to heart,
but never speaks back,
and he would've gone on persuading me
that sometimes words really are
a waste of breath.

05/12/2003

Author's Note: Moving from real to imaginary dialogue. I dunno, thought it would be interesting to try.

Posted on 05/12/2003
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