Ice Cream
Ice Cream
I'm crying.
Not because you crushed my heart and threw it like a worn-out sponge into the desert.
Yes, I'm crying.
Not because you did not smile at me.
But rather because your teeth turned whiter than white when a woman's shadow passed by you.
Yes, I'm crying.
Not because you are completely healed now, and no longer need my whisper to fall asleep;
Not because you dedicated all your poems not to me but to another woman, and she stupidly believed you.
Yes, I'm crying.
But not because I threw away my pillow, and I now must be watchful throughout my life without you.
Yes, I'm crying. Severely.
Because the ice cream melted before I got home, and I didn't get to enjoy eating it.
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