The Small Print

The Small Print

From day one, I read your eyes
and saw the messages written in sideways glances
and raised eyebrows.
I read your heart, growing to know
its beat, its rhythm,
and managed to ignore
its arrhythmias of arrogance.
I read your feelings
as much by tone and inflection
as ever by uttered word
too often muttered
under your breath as I walked away.
I read you like a garage sale
‘who-done-it’
knowing the ending
ahead of time,
although it couldn’t have been you.
Of course not.
But is my own fault.
I was so busy reading
chapter headings and climaxes
that I never read
the small print.