Feel your breath, in and out.
Swallow your pride,
let go of defiance,
forge your indomitable character,
stick to yourself,
centered,
build your headspace.
You fall time after time,
in the trap of vampires,
squeezers of energy
addicted to your time.
Nudniks of the kind
craving for your question,
their monologue.
Your gaze is again a void,
you stare but don’t look.
Your languid mouth,
listless, and limp,
babbles “yeses” and “ahas”.
It regurgitates unconsciously
a curated repertoire, questions
to assuage your impotence.
A reflex, a jaundiced
self-shielding mechanism.
You look resentful,
desperate for freedom.
Your fantasy: a sincerity game.
A chat stopped, your need expressed.
The balance found
between your lacking courage
and your overthrown consideration.
No subtleties, no hints.
A direct articulation, short
and striking, like a hashtag.
The subsequent sashay
down the corridor, looking
for your next partner.
A piercingly proud glance.
The tip of your tongue burning
with an icebreaker,
a lambent wit, a trigger,
an engaging summon.
A seductive ambush.