A lover, I said!
You asked me about the weather,
And I was surprised.
We hadn’t spoken in a while.
I don’t know what I want from you.
You don’t know what you want from me.
But somehow, we both know
what we want in life
and that
is a mystery.
“I wanted a lover,” I said.
You looked at me, wondering
if I was joking.
But honey, no.
That’s the point of a lover.
Someone who carries love with care.
Someone who doesn’t break hearts,
who doesn’t make you feel apart.
“A lover,” I said.
And that
was my weather.
It seems you didn’t like it
too stormy,
too windy,
too mysterious,
not serious enough.
But honey,
a man who kisses another
doesn’t become a lover.
And having a child
doesn’t make a man a parent.
A mother is not a title to be called,
but an action
that never falls.
Meanwhile, I look at the sun,
and my day goes on.
Meanwhile, I look at the tree,
and I feel so free.
That
was my weather.
That’s
where I like to be.