Poetry

A square of four walls and a bed contain so many memories
I left a shadow of myself in your bedroom
I will not keep looking at your bedroom window
to see if a part of me is still there
lingering on your skin
lingering in your sheets
lingering on your fingertips
and in your mouth
I will not keep looking at your bedroom window
to see if a part of me is still there
lingering on your sheets
lingering on a pint glass
lingering in your house.

I left a shadow of myself in your bedroom
She calls me to claim her back but I cannot
I gave her up willingly
She laid on your bed and unbuttoned your shirt
A kiss for every button loosened
She gazed into your eyes and licked the celtic salt from your skin
She will remember the ochre freckles on your shoulder
Her dark hand on your white skin
The fade from red to dark in the hair on your face
Your eyes

I left a shadow of myself in your bedroom
I will not keep looking at your bedroom window
to see if a part of me is still there
I dropped a letter at your door
Two lines inscribed with what is in my heart
Only addressed to you and London’s anonymous houses.

I will not keep looking at your bedroom window
to see if a part of me is still there
I will not look for her
For that was five days ago now
I have left and so will she.
I will call her back to my skin
To my body where she will wait
for new loves and lips to kiss and bodies to caress.

I will not keep looking at your bedroom window
to see if a part of me is still there.

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