We sat a bit, and ate, and then,
she asked if I was always shy
of sharing what I really meant:
I thought, 'I guess I am that guy'
But these are the conversations held
inside, the moments that we die.
I asked her, too (for fair is fair)
if she had always been so bold:
'Not so,' she said, and laughing drank
a coffee that had long gone cold --
For death is a dance of words, sometimes,
when we pretend that we’ve not gotten