Tell me

You come to me.
On your face hung a plastic smile.
You come to me
with all that you bring.
Tell me,
What is that thing I see flickering in your eyes?

Your tone
And your disposition
speak aloud to me,
And are cloaked
In a shroud of deceit.
But they have not escaped from me—
That protrusion!

In the day and in the night,
I hear it in your voice, and I see it
In your eyes
The hatred that you feel for me.

In your strides I do perceive,
from afar,
The affliction you shall soon bring
upon me.
So I am on my guard.
In the night and in the day.
(Hither and yon!)
Lest I be eased to the grave.
Grotesque!

Tell me,
I beseech you!
What offence have I before you?
Though I dote upon you,
You do not love me.