Creeping quietly overhead to block reflection of water on sky

blue that last signaled he misses you

Churns gray and fumbles in its pockets for something to say

Not caring if it rains on a waiting picnic by the lake

Where you’ve curled your hair and polished your cheeks

To reflect the heat of passion in his voice

Until the gray moves in with an apathetic quiet

Of phone not ringing to say he wont be there,

The silent message left

That says I don’t hate you,

I just don’t care.