Did you know that I once wrote you a poem?
Yes, I wrote you a poem! Once.
Carefully choosing words, strategically placing them one after each other,
desperately trying to convey, I don’t know what.
I think it was love – so you told me.
I wrote you a poem, didn’t you read it?
A friend told me to write about real love.
‘Real love‘, she said. ‘Your stories are too melancholy‘, she said.
I see them as funny, as love can be sometimes.
Wasn’t our love funny (sometimes)?
I think it was – so you told me.
Do you know that I once wrote you a poem?
We parted as we started, equally dividing the plants,
the books, the plates, the cutlery and eventually the friends.
We saw each the other day, glancing out the corner of our eyes,
pretending to be elsewhere.
We saw, and passed without one word being spoken. Not one.
Don’t you know that I once wrote you another poem?
Yes, I wrote you another poem! Once.
Carefully choosing words, strategically placing them one after each other,
as I wrote about ‘real love’ – I think.
Yeah, it was real love and, a poem with no words…
…because as with ‘real love’,
the words were never spoken.
I once wrote you a poem,
didn’t you read it?
