It was always
"I'm sorry."
"Maybe tomorrow."
"What can I do to make it better?"
But you actually don't want to.
You have so much excuses,
cancelled plans.
You take naps in the middle of the day,
siestas at 9:30 in the morning.
You just wanted to get rid of me,
Of my brown eyes
that pleaded you to stay.
You called me at dawn,
Said you were building a table,
I will never get the chance to put my phone there,
or to turn on the lamp that stands majestically on the brown concrete.
And then he comes along.
"Will I see you in the morning?"
"How are you?"
"Have you eaten?"
"You're so cute."
"I like you."
"I like your eyes."
It's like you never left.
