I remember your long legs

The outline of your chin graceful

In the dim light of your room.

Your eyes were distant, and I found myself

Thinking of the beginnings of this –

The long, green paths we talked through

The smiles, the holding of hands

The happy depths we would have fallen to.


I haven’t changed much since then, not really

If only you cared to look, you would see.

But now, it is no longer talking that we do

And the words we use are so carefully chosen

That the few smiles we share fade awkwardly.


It might be too late to erase the discordant music

Our hands and mouths make, maybe they’ve forgotten

How to hold and speak

But if only you’d look, you’d see, we could still go back.


But maybe it’s no longer talking that you are looking for,

It is clearly not me you reach out for.

I see you are broken, I do not know how to fix you

The tragedy is that I want to try.


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