A poem about lost love by David Tombale: I believed

Some romances come and go leaving their own stories behind, this is one such story.

I believed

 

Every song we played was ours,

every turning step, every brush

of skin on cloth, every glance

was the beginning of our romance.

 

 I said it often, wrote it upon

 the mirror, printed t-shirts with

 our faces in them, put it in the

 papers, hung it from the trees

 and for some reason I believed

 you’d never leave.