a spot of red lipstick
left on my shirt,
reminded me of our first date,
I bought you a bouquet of roses,
it smelled just like your perfume
that penetrated my pillow
and, sometimes, I can still feel it in my room.
remember, my darling,
you were the one that left,
you were the one who threw away the keys
that I have you as a gift.
you were the one that left
and told me in a letter,
now you don’t have the right to be jealous
like a kid that wants the cake
after he refused the plate.
I’ve moved on,
you’re just a memory,
just like spot of red lipstick
left on my shirt,
you will be washed away
that is the price you have to pay.
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