We sit across the room from each other in hideous furniture.
But still, you scream,
"What is it all about? Why are we here?"
I respond, warm affection dripping in every word,
"Human connection."
"There must be more than that," you insist.
Your words leave me with nothing except an unworthy reparation on my lips.
I glance around the freezing house and realize I have obviously failed to provide enough for the both of us.