Smooth : Today’s prompt.
Could he tell, by the look on my face,
that I held my heart in my hand?
For it’s as smooth as ice
and as cold as his gaze.
My emotions dripped down my sleeve,
he whispered nonentities to me.
Could he tell, by the sound of my voice,
that my feelings had gone astray?
For my voice cracked
with each word,
and my sighs had gone to the hills.
I could tell by his touch,
for it was as smooth as silk,
he failed to see my transgressions.