I knew you before
you had a heart --
though most might think that
cliche, or mere word-play,
we both know it's not.
Neither a facetious remark, nor even a trite,
emotive loan, out of respect I'd bemoan
the explanation.

And though I set this down from the cuff
please do not be quick for hasty rebuff
I have a clear notion of this particular action,
this particular agenda,
this off-set transgression-apparent.
We are not friends long to be sure,
but to task I've been taken, as not before
to question my own intent.

Though I shall not still the severity
of your situation, your quiet representation,
your manifest destiny -- I will be honest to the end.
Yours is not to quell the humor inherent,
inherited from the past like an unmatched debt
none would care for, or rather, care less about
it is still no less true, that neither you, nor I
can change this course upon which your sails have set.

One day you will not respond with a quick retort.
Of this, I have already prepared, though I expect
it will surely hurt
none-the-less, and to no less
an extent.

Ours was not a quiet passing --
two ships set against
strong winds
yet to set anchor in some distant harbor,
to let the sand sift through our toes,
on some long forgotten shore.

I feel I've drawn
upon another
abysmal
cliche.
"But if the shoe fits..."

Ours was not a quiet passing --
I would soon to
long for more.