Take back the memory.
You have it.
Yet how can I give something away I don't want to be without?
Sometimes loss is the best thing.
Why does it not feel that way now?
If you knew
the games of chess
I play with you.
You would wonder why
you win so easily
whilst it is I
who loses her king
each time.
What is it like to go from white
to black,
move along the squares, the moods,
whilst I'm here wishing to go back.
Take back my faulty move, return
to those halcyon days,
toasting under the sun.
The rain should have been a sign
for those days long gone.
That our day is past, our time is through,
for not much longer would I lose you
