The Night Before / The Morning After

The night before, you tell me

where you've been.

The folktales you've shared before,

whispered in a cold ear behind a corridor,

tapped into a cracked screen

on the night bus floor.

It begins with the exploration of the

concept of 'her;'

a certain look suggests,

it ends also not far from there.

​

The morning after, you remind

me of my name,

as I mention the sun shines through

but a coat might be wise

for the rain.

Won't ask where you're going

but I'd bet your smile,

I'll hear the tale again

though delivered by words of another,

I'll recognise the stain.

​

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