I wasn’t really listening to you

when you told me that story

with its long, convoluted plot.

I kept getting lost in the narrative

of who said what to whom and when

and what you said in reply.

 

The story didn’t seem to end,

but just went on and on.

I kept nodding and pretending

I was as interested as you were.

 

So when the story finally ended

and you asked me what I thought,

I could only say what I always do,

it doesn’t matter; I still love you.