The Fig Tree - Kim Anderson

What do I do

Do I clear the room of traces of you

Tell me how exactly to proceed

To purge my memory

Because all my indifference melts away from me

Each time I hear you speak

We go fruit picking

Climb a tree and then we get to talking

And it seems I can’t escape this thing

Though I’m trying

We fall in love with everything

And I forget I meant to leave