Shulda

You should have known by now

that I wanted to hold you

just one more day. It could

never be enough. Every beat

is mine. All for you.

Every core of my body

needs your hands

to dress my wounds.

Come closer.

Even if I bite,

you’ll like it.

Even if I bolt,

you’ll want me

back. This is how

I am made.

To not be accepted

by anyone.

You can poke fun

at my doubts,

but what you see

as ego

is actually

the opposite.

What you see

as pride

is me

alone

in my thoughts

trying to decipher

why poems

are not real

at all.

And that’s fine too

like a smooth

cup of coffee

overlooking the mountain

under the cross

on a freezing Montreal spring day

the tulips are almost perfect

but my love for you

is n o t.

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