~•~
When we sit down, for one last time,
To balance our sheets, and you open the ledger and demand your heart, I want these things to be returned.
Give me back my July evenings of slow rain, and saturated conversations about everything that lies on either side of skin.
Give me back my laughter, I need now to fill silences.
Give me back the arch of my back, and the hitch of my moans. I did not make you of my pleasure.
Give me back the lesson we've learnt;
Let me be petty, you can keep the mistakes.
Give me back the city, how is it that it now sounds, smells and tastes like you. I had lent it to you, it wasn't a gift.
Give me back he breathlessness of dancing too much after too many beers. The music dosent sound the same without the laughter in its empty spaces.
Give me back of who I was before you. I am tired of keeping time by your clock.
I understand about the loss as much as I understand about the accounting—so very little. Had I known that one has to keep a list of transactions, I would have asked for a lot more.
~•~
YOU ARE READING
Serenade✔
Poetry"To live is the rarest thing in the world. Most people exist, that is all. " ~Oscar Wilde __________________________________ ✔You stay under the carpet of my room, Dusting the corners of my soul✔ __________________________________...
