It's raining terribly,
but I wouldn't rest for it.
Are you pretty?
Or just pretty desperate?

Similar lines to those on your face,
I've seen riddle my mirrors.
Impossibly rigid I trace them
Tearing my fingers.
Only sharpening the edges,
And the image will translate clearer.

[I cannot read you or your body or your mind.]
I'm too preoccupied
Reading carefully,
Between every line.

Had you been being a trauma queen?
Or were you just being?

I told you that I was sorry,
For acting so insatiably.
And you sought to get me worried,
In not responding to me.

Had I been a touch out of key?
Or had I lost the spare?
[Yet we remained there, we and our love]

You're crying heavily,
And I can't protect from it.
Are you happy?
Or just happily upset?
.
Impossible though I caress
Minding my fingers,
Recreating your mere likeness,
As your figure is translated clearer.

[I cannot read you or your body or your nerve.]
I'm too preoccupied
Reading carefully,
Between every curve.


And We and our love are static.
[Overly traumatic]