Toni

The way you hook, when your lover tells lies, money you pooled, now out on your own, in a poor welcome light, sunlight on the stones, he tells you its ruined, you don’t know why, you're 38 and cool, but no more wrongs, it's useless to cry, the knife's on the bone, always too soon, forever to sigh, to think what she’s doing, but whatever has gone, she’ll walk in the lilac, say hello to song, spring shoos her home.