Stories

She sits in the corner

Where it's reasonably quiet

Drinking coffee with cream

Thinking stories of young love

She calls to the waiter

'Won't you lend me some time?

You can sit by my side

And I'll let you be friends with mine.'

The cafe is old

But the candlelight's new

She orders Beaujolais wine

And says 'I've thought of you too'

She whispers 'Isn't it odd

You remind me of songs

That I'd rather forget

Like feelings I longed for

You haunt me inside

Sometimes I recall

Question mistakes

Who grew to nothing at all'

I hear voices that cry

And one of them's mine

All the things I could say

Are the reasons I can't

She says 'I've seen you before

In thoughts I call 'son'

Like an old film with sound

When the link comes undone'

The waiter is me

And the woman is you

And we are the story

Just like others I knew