she loves the way you talk: with r's rolling off your cultured tongue like buttons from the shoemaker`s hands.
but he has not mind to reveal the truth in a language misinterpreted.
she loves the way you grin with your whole face, gold-capped tooth peeping out like a mischievous bambino.
but he has not eyes that can recognize a smile of such paradoxical sympathy.
she loves the way you have worked.
&now, she loves the way that you wait.
but he just shakes his head, &grips the wheel harder: racing to retreat to his home on the hill.