July 21, 2012 § Leave a comment
Funny after all these years
We still talk like getting in the corners,
And I know you – we grew around each other;
We never seem to touch.
You used to be the one;
Before we made each other colder, loner,
We tried it in the spotlight, squinting –
You used to be the one.
We don’t always have to talk, my
Eyes are on the tiny bits of grey
Which seem so queer and out of place;
I remember your black hair.
We never seemed to touch,
Even when you must have been there,
What is touch, oh what is touch?
I must have known you’re not the one.