I don’t know why I thought he loved me
Just, perhaps, the way I felt for him
And certainly he never said as much, mtaintaining that
He didn’t show his feelings, or affection
Though he held me tight enough and
Kissing me, you couldn’t tell.
He could be tender: when I hid my face
Against his chest and blurted out
He stroked my hair, regretful
Now it seems to me he had no reply
(While I would kick myself and think,
You fool, you fool).
But there was once, on parting, when
Responding to my usual words, he whispered:
“I adore you too.” I cried
The whole way home, my dream come true;
At last. The odd thing was
That that was when he started getting late
Whenever we met for dates
His phone calls hardly came through and
He would say
I’m sorry, but I’ve been tied up.
In desperation, one 3 a.m. I left a message
With his friend. That if he cared for me
To ring by 5 a.m.
He hasn’t phoned me
It’s 5 a.m.
Perhaps I should have said which day.