Everytime he go back
We kiss
We hug
We talk a lot.
We eat at McDonald's
We take a walk outside
But we never held each other's hand.
Everytime he go back
He asks his usual "how are you?"
I answer it with my same "I'm fine, thank you."
I steal glances
He smiles back
Until there's a good corner for a smoke.
He's trying to fulfil his promises
That for me are only just empty vessels.
The night doesn't stop there
Until we succumb on the heat
We are bottling up inside.
And when it's time for me to leave his arms
He'll pat my head
and say his "Be good" afterwards.
The world of adults is complicated.
Maybe my choice
Or rather, it's our choice.
He's married and I'm not
It's not even one sided on my part.
Be good.
On what?
On where?
For whom should I be with?
Such a laugh As I chuckled
Before I leave this dim lighted room
I asked again myself,
When will be again our next hi,
As I resist the temptation of looking back.
