There is no need they say,
The smell of an old cigarette
And the tapping on the oak floor
while sitting on the middle sofa
waiting for us to arrive

You are old now,
that’s what they say,
and your fragility scares me.
The colored freckles, the liver spots
that cover your skin,
fills you with memories,
Pale skin and your caramel eyes,
highlight your little smile,
that comes through when you see us.

I hate to see you like this,
At your small but pretty balcony,
With your beautiful crazy adventures,
that now are only memories,
as if you hadn’t forgotten
how to love.