You come in less than a minute after I do
But always after me
And I wish you'd stay for a while and talk about the day- your day with me
But the line goes dead soon after
You buy me your favorite Carlos Luis Zafón
& beg, no demand that I read it.
You don't "take favors”
But blushed when I gave you Neruda's Twenty Love Poems- Michael Faudet's erotic poetry, you said, "touched you in places-"
I shall retrace our footsteps- which do not exist anymore, a thousand times over. Then visit the quaint little bookshop we went to, sit in a corner, unobserved & longingly sigh.
Will you grab me by the throat
And try erasing a passionate mistake you once made Or ask
me if I'm doing fine And I'd say, how could I?
When I'm deprived of the presence that once gave me life.
I was no rebel
And this, was a rebellion
Him, oh! how he still made his Abbu proud
The man stood up against the fire
For the country that he loved more than his life