And I said

And I said softly, “Come on in, you’ll be my guest tonight.”
You hung your coat, the way you do, upon the little spike.
I asked you, just like always, “So, what’s your plan now?”
And you replied that all around were fools and sellouts.

You said you try to be ideal in every setting —
At home, at work, each minor thing becomes a question
Of global scale. And only I can understand you:
The war inside your marriage, and the system’s pressure.

I knew it well — I’m rock, and friend, and crying shoulder;
I am the portrait of my own invented “false nature”;
I built a love delirium and let it blind me,
And you — so good, so innocent — were always blameless.

So many times I said goodbye to you in mind,
But every day the universe could fit inside
The space between us. I would break and then surrender —
I must have liked this tragic-comic kind of pattern.

You took your coat down from the nail — that brisk, familiar gesture —
The kind they make before an execution or an arrest.
You left the way you always did — your back collapsing inward —
But when you came, you’d burst in, glowing, flawless, like a showroom winner.

And then I said, just like I always do, “Good night now.
We make each other dizzy with our endless mind-games,
And that’s the fire we’re feeding, wild and reckless.”
And you replied, just like you always do, “Goodbye. See you tomorrow.”

 © Valeriya Korennaya

Видео песни здесь - youtu.be/ahJ35Xjqc28