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Goodnight

So goodnight my sweetheart,
my most dearest love,
the nights have drawn in
and I am not as thin,
today I would fill your arms
and feed your smiles.
You always said we would
grow old and fat,
walk along sea fronts
hand in hand
laughing about varicose
and dodgy prostates.
Oh so in our youth,
we rolled on threadbare
persian rugs from thrift shops
never feeling the wooden floors
dig into our elbows
or cheap carpet burns.
It is 10 pm, I have a concert
and all I am thinking
is memories and heartloss,
happiness and tears
eating stupid onion sausages
wrapped in a baguette
with too much mustard
it made me sneeze
and you squeezed my fingers
pinching pink into white.
So goodnight sweetheart,
my dearest, most beloved,
too many years have passed,
I don't buy cheap rugs anymore,
I have tiles and boards,
but I never grow bored of you.

Poetry by Elle