You'd ask me
Hey, how 'bout this evening?
I'd chuckle bitterly
Nah, so very sorry
I'm busy today
There are just too many things

Indeed, It was a simple excuse
Suppose if it fooled me
It would do it for you

In bed, gazing at the chipped lilac
Sheets reflecting one's disposition
Disoriented, down and done
Cough till the cows come home
Stress cheekbones a little
Part the ripped lip
Enjoy nostrils red as his roses