Six-seven, Four-five

It’s been maybe six-seven years and you

still think I’m a naïve little girl? Your loss.

You should have seen me, really seen me

back then, instead of giving me words,

words, words to work with. Never enough.

They might have been, back then, but now

I need flesh, and I need soul, and I need thought.

I need feeling, not emotionless analysis.

I need sensation, not imagination.

I need shared breath and dancing.

And I need naiveté and a time machine, not you.

‘Cos four-five years ago, when I wasn’t naïve anymore,

I had a fountain, a boy with a bike, and a bus.

Seems I won’t ever have them again,

much as I try. I can’t have four-five years ago.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: