Poetinthebackroom

Working it Out

Eight hours gone and I’m back on the street
Under the subdued symbolism of the fading stars
Glancing up at the balcony with more than a hint of melancholy
And quietly asking myself one more time why I left
All the while desperately trying to piece together
The details of the most important night of my life


We talked through the night while sat on white wicker chairs
About everything
About nothing
About our biggest fears and dreams
About the time we walked past the high reaching tower blocks
While the street musicians played sweet soulful jazz songs just for us
And I knew for sure, that I could listen to your stories until my ears hurt


We made love to a Leonard Cohen track
And watched the delivery trucks from the balcony window
Until the street lights dimmed and morning slowly appeared
And the people came to do the things that people do
That’s when you started to tell me your story
The one about how torn up you get about the way
I ghost in and out of the scene


That’s when I made my move
Like the crucial coward that I am
And always have been
I felt a solitary tear slowly slide down my sombre face
As I quietly closed the door creating a barrier between us once more


But I tell myself assuredly that this isn’t an ending
It is just an exit
And I try my hardest to ignore your sad eyes
As they follow me down the street and into the gathering crowd
All the while I try not to forget the intimate, important details
Of the greatest night of my life



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