The Nostalgic Poem by Anna Garland

It is only when he moves away and I
move into the past that I become
a person in his mind, someone who was
instead of someone who has to be kept
at a distance

Now that I am here I am always too much
here, too much right now, too much
of everything. Even when he quits smoking
and I take my smoking breaks alone

or with others, even when I move to another
city it is not far enough - he has to leave
the country, at least
and become a distant memory

For me to finally become loved in his mind