We broke up just yesterday evening,

It was a common courtesy to wait until

The tea had been drank, the cookies have been eaten,

The sugary crumbs thrown away to diabetes prone pigeons,

Tip tapping their little crimson feet on our window pane

You don’t make me feel good anymore, I said

Opening the window, patting one of the most

Domestic pigeons of the pack, you know, he said

Rising up to meet my gaze, no one 

Can make you feel good unless 

Goodness is already inside you

Image @ unsplash