A very rough draft...
many a times, I will step out of line
talking in riddles,
making sense to no one but me
sometimes not even to me.
with your feet crossed at the ankles
you watch me indifferently
or pretend the indifference
because your slightly flaring
nose gives you away echoing the same
volatile emotions raging within me.
I am unable to hide, you are master at it
with that curl of your lips, I suppose
you are berating yourself more than
you can ever do that to me. perfectly
fitting, would you not agree?