'I can see myself in your eyes,' you said with fascination at staircase number one in the afternoon. 'That's number five,' you said as I kissed your cheek on the thirty-ninth floor at number two. You'd been counting. At number three, your legs hurt but you refused to let me move. Number four was the last time I hugged you before we said goodbye three months later. Three.
'I can see myself in your eyes'. That has a double meaning.
'That's twice today,' you said at the thirty-ninth floor. Was two a bad thing? Was it bad to drown in excess? Did I drown you in excess? Did I drown in excess?
Whenever there isn't much to be done in the restaurant, you come like a flood back into my mind - that's why I like to be kept busy. I dream that you're back and you say the things that I don't want to yet want to yet cannot hear, and I say no, but I'm thinking yes... yes.
What does it mean when the images engulf me and take my heart all over again? Take it again, and I come plunging down, like I had never tried to crawl out of that hole.
Yes, just keep running away like you've been doing all your life. This was never meant to be right; it hurt too much, for the both of us, to be right - although now I only remember the times heaven came down upon us. Maybe running away is the right thing to do. Maybe it's time I started running away too.