Donation

He says: "We need to talk."
And I foresee his sunrise betrayal: "Oh?"
Hair a veil over eyes, his lies, his face unreadable.
Delving into reason twists
His mouth chews on the words.
A greedy kid with a chocolate rimmed mouth
Shoving popcorn down his throat
These lies.

He speaks silence thinking: "Is she gonna cry about me?
What does she want of me? What does she expect of me?"
Me. Why am I not surprised?
And I feign a good ear, not a word though.
'Cause I can only remember hands and dew words.
Doing that woman bit, pretend I'm all distraught
When I wish, when I just wish
The fucker would deliver himself to another sofa somewhere.

He's a hopechest inheritance carted off by Goodwill.