Your eyes say things your heart does not know and in your mouth, I see a smile so beautifully crooked that it is now lost as I whisper truth in your ears. There is a life you do not know and I am a song your strings and cymbals can never play.
Your green jacket and yellow monogram, your glasses and mustache, your cash and cards – even your strings and cymbals – say you love me. And I should hold on to you, they say. I should love you back.
But I know the dreams you have been having. I know your fears. I know your truth.
You are not in love.