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Something Like

You left me waiting by Eno’s Portico

near and far from Cafe Rouge.

I knew you’d return soon,

you always returned in those days.

And I watched them kiss tenderly

between spoonfuls of strawberries

and something that could have been cream

but somehow seemed more intimate,

like stirring of unspoken love

on Sunday afternoons.

I remembered then, that day in the park,

walking through light and shade

you by my side and unspoken feelings

awakening, awakening, awakening, inside.

I waited for you there until after sunset,

then finally read your note.

Published inMain


  1. The end line throws the whole piece into another perspective, it can be taken many ways I guess. Good write.

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