Afterthought

Afterthought

...It happens,"
His mouth is writing.
You can see it
in his face, the way
he forms his lips
to frame the words,
then catches himself adrift,
checks his body,
can't cash for the moment
his currency of thought,
comes back to where
their conversation lagged.

"If you're going to,"
he says, "perhaps now
is the time.
Talk! The talk,"
he stumbles in his words,
"is over. You..."
he stops, afraid of his decision.
"Better walk,"
he tells himself.

The walk begins,
when, "Hell!"
he thinks, as his heart
freezes over, "My dead body
wants to live again.
Put your money
where it's better appreciated,
not spent on her. But
where your mouth is"--
he cannot keep himself
from thinking of her so--
"I've left so many kisses!"
And then unmanly sobs.
"She!" he
starts and stops,
"Sh..."