there's something funny in the way you look at me
(all eyes)
that isn't actually very funny at all.

i wouldn't call it a connection,
because that infers it goes both ways,
















(hasty hugs goodbye)
but i must admit there is something
sickly satisfying
















(fleeting glances)
in the entire thing.


there's something sensual and alluring
















(your hands are around her)
in knowing that you know nothing about my past,
or my present, really,
















(you're looking at me)
they say that "God is love,
but Satan does that thing with his tongue that you love"
and I don't believe in God,















(corner of my eye)
but I do believe in
humor.