Sometimes I wondered if you loved me the way I loved you,
if you had dreams and reveries and enchanting thoughts that only reminded you of how we were meant to hold each other,
And other times I sat on the cold windowsill of my bedroom,
just as I did as a girl,
pressing my cheek to the window,
beaming at the thought of only tomorrow,
I dreamt that before any of the harm we caused to each other,
to all of us,
that you rode a yellow bicycle to my house,
that you parked it in the driveway while I finished my Tuesday dinner with my family,
and you smiled all the while,
waiting for me to come out and play
And other times I mused about whether they would remember our love,
the way we were when we were young,
only you would know the way I looked then,
only you would know the way I treated my life like a magician,
You would remain,
even in death,
the enchanting man I knew you to be when we were very, very little fawns,
Your face would always be shadowed with moonlight,
even in the light of day,
even if we and the Moon would never shake hands as I had wished
I think once,
more than once, perhaps,
you loved me, too
No comments:
Post a Comment