Copy/Paste

                            Now I’m drinking

                            from a dusty mug.

She makes eye contact only with the clock on the wall.

Sometimes I try to smile but my mouth only pulls at the corners.

Every face I draw has black eyes.

And now we move on to the final act!

I still stare into my coffee.

It’s all the same no matter how you read it.

                            But she loved me forlornly,

                            and got in my head.