This is Just to Say (Again)

I used your movie ticket for a date

With someone else. You probably put on

The dress that I admired, the one with eight

Buttons along the back (or was it nine?),

And I am very sure you went alone

To see the film, wearing your hair the way

I liked it. She gave me her telephone

Number the day I fell from you, the day

You probably were saving for a storm.

Forgive me. There’s a lot I want to say,

Like this: The courtesies that keep us warm

Are not the forfeit I agreed to pay,

And where the hell’s the fire that made your mold?

Forgive me. I’m afraid of being cold.


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