Crafty thoughts breed crafty words
That spit rapid fire from lips too quick
Ricochet back into the eyes of the sayer
blinking and befuddled,
staring at an empty chair
no face, no trace,
just rewind and replay

what went wrong?
once a form and a face
a smile and a laugh
now a chair quite bare
and a half empty glass

Pay a tab, walk away,
bitter defeat tastes like lead