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.