Insisting with monotone eyes, “I’m fine.”
You pause. And glance away,
Whatever you are, you certainly aren’t mine.

Your heart follows a proprietary design,
Through chattering teeth, to God you pray
Insisting with monotone eyes, “I’m fine.”

Packages pour in, and to their empty contents you sign.
A sunbeam might catch your eye, but never does stay.
Whatever you are, you certainly aren’t mine.

You dig your tunnel and seek the divergent line,
Leaving my arms with lessening delay.
Insisting with monotone eyes, “I’m fine.”

Your features only ever looked real in moonlight’s shine,
As you stride from backstage of the theatre’s evening cabaret
Whatever you are, you certainly aren’t mine.

And now we sit apart, never again to entwine.
Your life, you state, is in a private disarray.
Insisting with monotone eyes, “I’m fine.”
Whatever you are, you certainly aren’t mine.