Meloncholy

When you told me we should part,
I did not stop you.
You kissed me goodbye,
And I did not hug you?

But I do wonder how it would be
If we met again much later.
Would you accept me then for the man I was now
Or would you analyse the changes
That I went through.

Maybe you would look at me
Notice my receding hairline
Maybe I’ll still smile to see you smile
And you’d try to find the spark in my eyes
That you claimed to love so dearly.

Maybe I’d look at you differently too.
You would have changed a lot I guess
Your hands gone weak, breasts gone saggy
Your face filled with wrinkles
And your smile more wonderful than it has ever been.

Or You’d be the same I suppose.
Carefree in the way you present yourself
Still wearing loose clothes because they’re comfortable
Leaving enough hollow before your chest
That a perverted eye may quench his thirst.

Maybe I’d still love you enough
To look you in the eye and be satisfied
Or maybe my love will have been faded away
And My hollow eyes world dare for the first time
To sneak a peek at the hollow within you.

Maybe we’d have awkward conversations then
And laugh about the awkward conversations we had now
I was never good with words in the first place
And you’d tell me how I’ve improved
And I’d comment on how you didn’t need to.

Maybe you will tell me of how you’ve been
Describing in detail of how your life was
Being careful each sentence
And choosing the right words
So that I don’t hear of any tales of sorrow.

I wonder how it would be if we made love then
Would I still gaze at your eyes?
or would I concentrate more on your lips?
Maybe my fingers would brush your hair
And the scars on your back would tell me tales

Maybe when I rest on your breast then,
I’d try to listen to your heart slowly beat
Maybe it’d beat faster when I kissed you
And your lungs would grow strong once again
As they breathe more with every passing second

I wonder if your loins would recognise me
Would they know of a stranger that visited long ago
Maybe there have been other visitors
who’ve been kinder to them than I have
Or maybe they’d just been waiting for me again

Would I still be bothered by your crackeling voice?
Or how you end up burning everything you cook
Maybe I’d have learned cooking myself by then
Waiting to meet you and compliment your perfections
And maybe my ear would have turned deaf by then

I wonder if I would still sometimes see through you
Looking at infinity to a future we never had
Wondering if there is a possibility for one
And maybe you’d try and wake me up from my dreams
and show how the reality is sometimes much better.

If you leave me then, I wonder –
If it would be any different to what is now
Would I stop you or hug you?
Or would I realise as I have today
That it’s easier to let go by just going away.

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