Encore

For the most part, I'm holding him tight as he's acting unpredictably. Poor slob, I wonder what his fate would be once he loses his true home. I feel for him. She cannot manage anymore and he's to go. This may very well be the last time I'm walking him.

We're strolling silently along each other and I smile at her whenever our eyes meet. I don't wanna talk; I enjoy this somewhat unpleasant situation — enough was said and I grew tired of repeating myself over and over again. She'd talk — I see she'd talk — if only I started and made it slightly easier for her.

Her place. She's inviting me in, just for a minute, she begs. There's no pretension, not a bit, and I'm aware this is the hardest part. The parting part. Please, stay, she looks at me and my heartbeat skips. She's pushing, it's crystal clear she'd like to spend more time with me.

Few weeks ago, I'd do, too, I'd love to shut the door behind me, seize her and throw her on the bed, tearing off her clothes and doing it. Tonight, I don't even fantasise. Bye, I utter — and I'm gone. Gone to heal my wounds.