Nineteen Eighty Nine

She only loves me twice.
Twice in a lifetime.
Now I'm lost, how nice.
Lost like in the pub last night.

Glance through the tall college window.
See me outside,
give a call and damn.
Touch me if you can.
Been fifteen years Emma,
your Ron is waning.
I kiss that last moth
as we enter the bar.

This is a wooden place,
chipped and out of date.
Like our childhood, friend.
On the edge of darkness,
with a recalled face.

Can't work today.
Too sharp contrast with paradise.

© Mark Sheeky. Permission is required for reproduction.