you asked me my business back in london
i told you i was here for work
i told you i’d met a boy
with long dark hair
and i told you he wore glasses
you asked ‘an intellectual, then?’
i said yes, of a sort.
the type of man you’d raise a family with
the type of man you could never be
the type of man to buy you lilies
when the pay check came in
and spin you around
on the roof of your cheap apartment complex.
i asked if you were still living in your apartment
the one with the large glass windows
that saw the city lights at night-
i miss it, oddly
cause you can’t hear the cars from up there
even though it’s so urban
and i could have sworn you could see big ben
from your large glass windows.
you said no, the rent was raised
and you got fired from your job
but you’d found a nice place in the suburbs
it was small, but you got by
besides, you didn’t need all the extra room
for a girl
i was long gone
and you knew it
i think i waited for you longer than i should've
but you used to spin me around
in front of your large windows
in your expensive apartment complex
and you’d buy me lilies
before the pay check came in
and you were an intellectual.
you used to write poems about me,
i think i must have memorised a couple
though i never really meant to.
still, i had to leave
i could never have raised a family
with a man like you