It may have been the look, that I took, at the book
carefully hidden
amongst your clothes,
or the note, that he wrote, left in your coat
that you’d forgotten to throw away
I suppose.
Then I knew, that the clue, meant that you
held a secret
that both of us swore we’d never keep,
so I cried, tried to hide, fought the tide
of emotions that swamped me
so incredibly deep.
Since you’ve left, I’m bereft from the theft
of our love
wrestled from me without any warning,
In this mask where I bask, when friends ask
about you I say
I just didn’t see it coming
© Graham Sherwood 7/2009
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