I'll drink this
and you'll smoke that.
I'll stare
as you stroke the cat.

"What's worse,"
you inquire,
"to love or be loved
by a liar?"

Scratch my head,
chew my hair.
"Why do you
even care?"

Eyes spark,
you lean in close
"Your opinion matters
the most."

And with that,
you run off to bed.
I follow,
still scratching my head.