There’s a lesson at the bottom of the glass
I’ve hit my bubba pink
She delivers and they walk by
I’m like a GPS
My subconscious has taken a detour
Too hyperaware of everything
And I’ve never seen her walk
And she appeared like my words give her form
I’m dreaming again, but there is nothing between us
And I’m here again with you old friend
“I’ve stopped writing because I’ve stopped feeling…”
You paused and drank your Cappuccino
“It all comes back to you.”
Amsterdam big-wheel rolls on and
We reminisce
You’ve gone all responsible on me
How fucking dare you!
And you sit there counting your wrong decisions in the past
And I’m confused because all I’ve done is envy your capriciousness
And then I remembered
I wrote a poem the last time we came out here.
© A.R. Minhas
