like a little tune
he wrote last May.
tries to sing you the same
but some things
they just gotta change.
~
and with a firm nod
you sounded so unsure.
this is gravity,
ostantacity,
still you just float away.
~
and in the end we met at the South Sunny Seaside Space-café.
where despite my best intentions you insisted that you pay.
we killed morning and
killed afternoon, even
evening drifted away.
as the open air grew chilly I felt a closeness hot at hand.
you just pulled you coat up all simple demure and Bland.
~
