The time [bad word] again
Slowly walking down the steps
To where she would have been
If only they were seventeen

Waiting patiently
And stood between a fraying seam
Hiding from himself
As well as everybody else

Without permission
His face became wet 
He thought he’d learnt how to not get upset
From folded notes in envelopes
“Meet me beneath the moon. Don’t go too soon”
She went too soon

The time [bad word] again 
Slowly walking down the steps
To where she would have been
If only they were seventeen