This is a shrug and a sigh now
your picture is turning brown
and your memory is fast becoming regret.

I don't like fireworks or finales.
It is better if this stays simple and quiet,
pain is not very different from anything that way.
It will leak out
as my tongue unties itself
and my wounds all close for winter

I ask only one thing before I go:
leave my dreams alone.
If I cannot touch you
I do not want to see you.

I know it is a bitter, selfish wish
full of pity and spite,
but it is the only one I have left.

AcB 12.01.01