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Crocodile Tear Conversation

I must moniter my words
or they betray my true reaction.
Of your crocodile tear conversations.
Where your emotions, so vagarious,
toss us along the white water rapids
of your thoughts.
Eventually we reach the crux.
Where I must now deal with your anger.
That has been distilled over the years
to its raw essence.
It rots my gut.
As easily as turning a page in a book,
tactics are changed.
Now, all your emotions liquify,
escaping from your still deluded eyes.
They puddle at my feet
to reflect back to me
my weariness with the game.

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