A loquacious day, talking for hours
Bends the hands forward,
By the clock’s lonely tower;
So we unsheathed our verbal sword,
Following the words slowly poured,
Into our minds, into our heart,
Falling for nothing now,
Cupidity’s poison dart.
Not speaking of anything,
Hands all aside,
Our mouths nearly frothing
The bantering tide,
Was all we have now,
Just fear, the less jarred,
Falling for ages,
Handed to us addled
The unctuous life paddled,
Through the searing talking page
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