Small Talk. A poem.

It’s just small talk.
Idle conversation.

But every sanguine movement
of her mouth
and every captivating word
that passes those bewitching lips,
buoys me like the drowning man
lost on a tormented sea.
She is the lifeline extended,
dragging me from the rip
flushing water
from my sponge-soaked lungs
and saving me, despite myself.

Suddenly, my fires are
renewed, coals restoked
and embers bellowed.
I’m screaming
from the battlements
of this crazy mind’s towers
“Love me as you will;
I would sacrifice my soul for you.”

Back to reality:
It’s just small talk.
But I’m floating on air
and the clouds around me
in their buoyancy
somehow seem to care.

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