Through the void of a smoke-filled cafe
I try to make out your shape again
Though my complexion is already bloodless
I’ll squint my eyes so that you won’t fade
Like the warmth of the relentless lamplight
That shone down on the back of your knee
Which I first touched with thoroughly chapped lips
In the cool of an imaginary night.
I remember your room smelled of sandalwood
But maybe that’s just my imagination
I can’t really tell and it just goes to show
How time can tamper with your memory
All I know is that you wore purple stockings
Cause you reclined on the sofa sitting on your foot
As we talked over the glasses of tea you brought
I could tell that you wanted to get it over with soon.
I know I must seem a little pathetic
But I don’t want my tone to get wry
Maybe reliving all these memories
Is just one weird way of saying goodbye
Of course, I know that you aren’t listening
But that doesn’t matter cause I know you never were
It’s just your hazy image I’m seeing
And I’m really only talking to myself.