Good night my love, I’ll see you in the morning

She said as she tucked me – so delicately – in

Lo and behold, the next day was one of mourning

As she only left a letter that landed in the bin


I had slept the sleep of the righteous

She had done nothing of the kind

I draw with my fingers her likeness

She’s left me but she’s on my mind


So where are you now that you have stealthily disappeared?

A sunken ship is a heartache is an ice cream cone that landed on the street

Whither did you go, as your tears left the ink on the divorce papers smeared?

A creaking door, a gush of wind in the bushes, a chance that we might meet


Courage and hoping nothing may let lovers be estranged forever

When I start the car I wait for you to appear at the door

Killing time and biting nails and wearing your old sweater

You are not there. “Good night my love”, I’ll see you on the shore


I can’t write bad poetry when you could be standing outside, hesitating whether to come inside or not. And I am inside, hesitating whether to go have a look or not. And we might just miss each other this way a thousand times. A thousand different tram lines. A thousand different wine and dines. I was left without haste but with resolve. How you still tucked me in, how I let you, how I believed I was safe in my slumber – I will never know. I’ll see you in the morning. Good night my dear, I’ll go.


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