I enter the same room and remember: You.
I remember the taste of loving you, and your sex
which no longer gave me pleasure…
I remember our kisses without heat…
Something that you've gotten used to there,
but honestly... I was crazy about you and I don't even know why.
I think the love was no longer there,
it became an object that I spooned at night to keep me warm;
He made the food, but he wasn't the good lover he appeared to be;
It was wrong.
I tried,
with effort,
but I rarely managed to do it.
Love comes and goes
without knowing how or why,
playing tricks, breaking barriers, paying to see;
often burning the tongue.
And making the unexpected
the most beloved.