I want to pitch you some poetry.
Take my batt out and swing it
hard in your direction.
My intention is to love you with it
to make you feel whole. I know
you are broken, it’s such a cliche,
true, you might be rolling your eyes
at me, as I do to you.
It’s fine. I have conversations
with you in my head.
You advise me on what Alan would
say, or what a dead rock star wrote
in his poetry book. You are too smart
for the public, the masses, your lovers.
You use the same lines
over and over
and I see that you are not
capable of loving me
the way I loved you.
I love you so differently.
I love you so perfectly.
I love you so absurdly.
I can love you until I close my eyes.
I bought you a gift
I imagine how…
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