Riptide

It's bad form to bond over other people's misery
And just sad to bond over ours...

You were wearing fitted jeans
And I already had a couple of drinks
I managed to maintain some eye-contact
And listened to a few of your words
But my heart just wasn't in it
While my thought were dangerously straying.

You were wearing fitted jeans
And an open-collar shirt to boot
I vaguely remember you were also upset about something
You wanted me to understand
So I smiled and nodded
All the way concentrating hard not to stare
or drool, rather.

Yes, what with the jeans, and the shirt
and your hair that was just so
and your hands, distractingly close
always moving
I may have somewhat missed
whatever you were saying.
May that be why
we never have any deep conversations anymore?