And one day a friend asked me,
“do you still write about her?”
What am I supposed to say?
How am I supposed to answer?
My knees shoke a bit,
it rose my heartbeat.
Casually yes, I smiled
but often no, I lied
But only if she knew
Daily, yes, I do.
When I watch the stars
I remember her smile.
When I walk down a street
I remember her scent.
When I listen to a song
I remember her voice.
When I watch a movie
I remember her face.
Only if she knew
Daily, yes, I do.
She should have ask this,
“Does she still read you?”
For even if I wrote thousand pages,
I would still say “no.”
