If Woody Allen directed our life
(assuming there is something to call
"ours")
we would be going
to meet again in three
five
or ten
years
and we would be going
to have all the ***
we didn't have before
because I lost my mind
and you said
nevermind.

We would meet in a foreign country
in a cafè in Paris
or at a fancy dinner in London
and you would introduce me
to your fiancè
(as pretty as I've never been)
and I would tell you
I' didn't follow your advice
(when we were eighteen you told me
"don't you ever commit suicide").

I would recall that day
when you gave money to the man
playing the saxophone in the street
at night
and I would tell you
what I didn't have the guts to say
back then
(I love you and I need you)
and I would allow you to save me
this time.

You would kiss me on the lips
gently
like you did this morning
before stepping on the train
that was five minutes late
(and made me cry for 25 minutes afterwards)
and it would be just the same
only 10 years later
and I'll still be
a mess
and you'll still say
nevermind.