At times I catch myself
committing the crime of
feigning interest.
I nod frequently at
slivers of chatter, and smile
to hide my disdain at
repetitive exploitations of
topics that easily resemble
the nine circles of hell.
My mind is not designed
for ready-made conversations
that chain words to be
crowd-pleasers, but
roots fervently for anyone
whose train of thought is
original, and fulfils my
craving for meaning.
I shine at soul-level
communication, or alternatively
at sarcastic banter. Pick one, and
you will have my undivided attention.
© Novemberchild
in response to The Sunday Whirl Wordle 370
photo credit: via loveliesandgames.com