M.I.A.

I remember you.
And if not often,
It would be wrong to say
I don't think of you at all.

On nights of impending gloom
When the air is chilly
When I have just heard some good music
Or re-read an old poem I wrote, years ago

My mind distinctly goes back to you
And our December
The December, we found everything
And lost everything

After many years,
I don't remember your face of course
But your tantrums,
It's difficult to forget those

Yes, if it makes you any proud
You've stayed
I've moved on though
In some ways I've stayed too

In this chaos of poetic commotion
And lack of motion
And rampant illusion,
I remember you

And I can't help myself,
When I do.
You waltz into my memories
And waltz out, abandoning me moist,

Sometimes on the verge of nostalgia
Sometimes dreamy
Wondering what you've been up to
It's been quite long. This long

That you've been so M.I.A.