Palavras lidas #513

After
by Robert Cording

Well, we’re older now. Nothing new
there. We died and yet didn’t know
from that very first I do how we’d follow
the years toward who will bury who?

So tell me again, when our lives are done,
that we’ll be together. It’s okay
if you lie to me. That’s a price I’ll pay
for our marriage to continue after we’re gone.

Say it, please. Say how it will always be
when we meet again. After everything
we made together is torn apart, nothing
left of us but this paper wish. Tell me.