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
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