The diplomat's dilemma

Do you wonder, sometimes
Tugging at the grey safari suit
What you say
You regret, later
Er ... Sir I think that border would look nicer 
If we shift it one latitude to the East

No reply
The emissary scribbles a jotting
Pause
Longish pause
No translation for that (as yet)
No chance to second-guess
To re-organise the strategic advantage
He sips his grey-earl tea, bland

Speculates
The formal confabulation of eight hours
Full of twists, traps, awkward testaments
Makes you dislike yourself
What you say
As much as the cunning ambassador
On the other side
Of the table
Who wheezes

Its yourself you blame
Your arbitrations are discomfited
Your underwear itches
Why do words tumble out, such?

So
You change the subject 
Sun Tzu, Arthashashtra, Battle of Qadesh, Vienna Convention, cheap wine, tailored suits 
By then you realise 
Nothing more to discuss

Only silence
Aided by the hottest day in Delhi
Which makes negogiating an international treaty
Oppressive