Still Listening

You play me with your words.

With murky sentiments and darker intentions

you purr seductively

in that husky, unreal voice of yours

and I feel your breath on my neck

though you’re at the far end of a late late call.

You chat for the length of a cigarette,

telling me about the trivia

that made up your day –

the noodles you ate and the colleague you hate,

while I slip into a hungry silence

held up with nods and sighs

and sounds that can’t be spelt,

till all of me is one large empty ear

waiting unabashedly for what I really,

really want you to say.

 

 

But you never do.

And I’m still listening…