Leaving

 

Last night at the theatre I saw you again,

Your smile in a face so much younger.

My confusion, my thoughts, my stares made him turn

and your warm smile chilled me

with ice melting now from the long frozen lock,

the key turning freely to let out our past.

And my past, and it’s future all came flooding back,

the shock of sensations long gone.

The dance and the music, the books that we read,

the memories that we must both have

of the pain and the pleasures,

that were part of our love

such a long time ago.

So I ask myself now, can anything stay

to give pleasure to us in remembering those days?

For my remnants now seem to be only pain,

and their sadness engulfs me

and halts my return.

So I left, in the end, as I left you, my love,

Saying nothing, taking nothing,

leaving nothing behind.

Without saying goodbye.

 

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the ugly writers the ugly writers