November rain falling outside,
That was always your favorite kind.

It was your favorite month, too.

November, the month we met.
Date and time, I'll never forget.

When dreams were dreams and "here and now" was all we had.

"When you are having me over for dinner?", you'd ask.
I'd roll my eyes and stifle a laugh.

But you would never see me smile.

Then, when I would choose not to speak,
You'd gently lift my hand towards your cheek...

And then you would kiss it, lightly.

I would roll my eyes and pull away.
"See you tomorrow," you'd say.

And I would.

The End

0 comments about this poem Feed