Maybe we messed it up last time,
But I have already filled out
The forms for the next attempt;
I proof-read my application this time,
The forms have been accepted too,
And it is now time to send the abstract
Of the life we plan to live next time.
Hopefully I shall have one,
And hopefully I shall find you again.
I don't know what to propose, though;
We could be those ants we didn't kill,
Or the dogs we loved so much,
Or maybe just be humans again;
Better aligned though, than this time.
Or maybe I'll be the moon
And just spy on you as you sit
By your window, looking at me
Dreamy-eyed; your lips on your cigarette.
The signs clearly don't work well on you,
So we'll make them stronger next time,
And although your sign is also required
On the form, they asked me to still apply,
Saying they might still accept my paper
If you haven't sent another one -
An abstract with other preferences.
But then I don't really love you now,
Not the way I did for sure;
I realise that it is the idea of you
That I am now in love with,
And that idea doesn't belong to you,
For it is the other way around.
This has little to do with you anymore,
But instead with where you stemmed from,
With all the abstracts you brought along
And dumped at my doorstep;
And although the door's still open for you,
I don't wait there anxiously anymore,
For I'm busy fitting the abstracts
Into tiny spaces I built for them
From the crater you left behind;
And once I have them all in place,
I may not really need you anymore,
For everything I ever loved about you
Will be right by my side, where I want them;
For we might part and we may meet again,
But these abstracts will stay with me forever.