Enlist this answer
from my crooked smile,
cocked head to the side
and washing me with your eyes.

Sometimes some things
don't quite make sense,
my restlessness and
your candor, your 
fanning flames of my desire.

Inspired enough of me
to quip something silently,
to myself as you watched
the others play and laugh,

But what can act 
as our conduit?
Will the passion be wasted
as I waste these hours
away from your bed?

Half-ass that smile instead.