indifference ii

The cooling off
of steam rising from
a warm cup
holds the same
ambivalent desire as
the forming of a raincloud.
Those cold words,
words armed as daggers
iced within your own heart
with the things we
both need;
those words are
liquid,
flowing to fill the cup
with the things
we never said, and never
will.
When I saw that
smile, I knew it was
a fake. A beautiful
lie, tainted with
the slightest smattering
of honesty.
But you don't care,
and neither do I;
a toast to apathy
in all of its
hollow
indifference.