Ask me a question,
Ask me a good question,
One that will prompt a story to flow from my heart
But, maybe not one that will make me remember the last time I was asked it,
Because I'm not going to tell you that story today.
Go on, ask me a question,
One that will open your eyes wide as I become something you've never guessed at
But maybe not that one?
Because then I'd have to couch it in explanations that would mar the velvet and rend the gossamer memory,
Ask me about how it felt to hear his last kind word,
Ask me about how it felt to feel my first broken heart, not the last,
Ask me about how his tears tasted the night he first kissed me after she died,
Ask me about how the café smelt of coffee and cake as he fucked me on the steel countertop,
Ask me how it'll sound when your voice breaks as you finally understand the ending of the poem you've always suspected was about you,
Ask me how it will be when I finally find the answer to your question,
Ask me if I'll tell you.