The Answer

Is she still waiting as we speak, back along that lonely street? is she lying there in bed, thinking of the things you said? the curtains billow "cross her lips she thinks about your finger tips, Have you come to say Goodbye? I wonder which of us will cry? stillness in her meager room, the cars whiz by out in the gloom, she stares at flashing neon signs, her mirror speaks in fractured lines, to tell her yesterday is gone, she feels the winter coming on, she has nothing left of you, no keepsake there to see her through, I watch you as you cross my mind, with every memory I find, I roll your name around my tongue and think of days when we were young, you pulled my braids, you kicked my shins, you called me brat, you called me friend, Now should I let this be the end? I brush the hair out of your eyes inside me I can hear her sighs the answer comes to me just then I hear it blowing on the wind............