Ekua

If you must go, I send you off with warmth.

I was your secret place, and now I am the museum that holds a version of you that no longer exists.

Goodbye, I hope someday you visit, and see how beautiful you were.

only after i've moved on, shall i ask questions.

why? what? and maybe, who? was it real? did you dream? do you remember, the rain, the snails, the man, the bare necessities of life, of us?

I will call your name at the sight of a familiar frame

My heart will skip two beats and I will clutch my collar

The smell of your cologne will brush my nostrils and I'll turn around in the middle of a crowded street

When a hand grabs me briefly,

I will grab on fast, Hoping that it's you.

Wishing you'd come back.

🥀