Conversation Fear

 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 pages.