the cynic

there really is no way of knowing now
if what you say is real, sincere or true,
but i will listen and abstain somehow
from judgment or concern for your virtue.

at times i think this game is more than we
can possibly conceive of or deny --
a mirror held up between he and she
content to fake a smile; doubt, cold and wry.

you sit across from me and try to draw
me in with wit and wisdom and your charm;
your timing flawless, practiced -- never raw
my guard prevents your attempts to disarm.

yet i participate because i must
for without this there's nothing left but trust