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.