A sadness in your shoulders as we walked
makes me aware of how the mood is gone.
It has to be something that I have done;
it has been such a while that we have talked.
Essential now is what is on your mind.
Have I done something wrong that I don’t know?
The words I want to say have lost their flow.
I stutter while I need to speak refined.
How come your eyes are all that I can see,
when in between us there is bitterness
that’s blinding, meaning that you love me less,
the flow of your words say that you agree.
When we shut up at last, you say my name
and all that I have doubted, drifts away.
You’ll stay. Maybe our lives will be the same.