the last of you

i have left the last of you
in france, amongst mountains and a pub,
the site of our love's last dance,
we gave it more than we should -
some second, third and fourth chance.
before it finally flew away, that persevering dove,
i gave it a shove on it's way,
so did you, when we both played away.

you wouldn't let me be true, you see,
you understood so much,
but only a little prickle on the tip
of the confusing pickle i was in.
i had to leave to live,
on this we both insist
agreement,
endearment,
and fond, faded memories linger
as i point with a finger
to the happiness that ensued
in both our hearts
when we departed each other
and started again.

alone, but together,
in more honesty than ever.