Friday, December 16, 2011


What was the last thing you mumbled to me inside the kiss in the corner of bergmannstrasse and 
the street where we had 
our morning coffee and pretzels,
I couldn't hear it. 
Maybe you said "I'll miss you" or
"tea for two" or 
"cookies and blues" or
"I need to move" or
"I made a cake for you" or 
"I'll sing to you" or 
"you are so smooth" or 
"beautiful you" .

Now it occupies me, my head, my thoughts, the not-knowing if you talked something about cakes, or missing, or kissing or trains or veins or babies or pretzels.

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