I started writing about you that night
and the next day you said you wouldn't make it
one word
then talebearing 'til 2
like skipping stones
even if painted with bright lacquered lines
they sink
I said I would hold it loosely
find value
so I wrapped esteem around tight
crocheting transparent lines
leaving space open
residing in ambiguity with you
it opened up
nearing worship
huddled
like peeking in
being spoon fed
one succinct moment at a time
careful,
I am probably too careful
and if it hurts
it is the kind of ache that also pulls
as your value and the corresponding risk increase
it washes out in glowy middle
pinching as words turn to her
I would talk about it
if it paid it proper respect
and why is it so easy to talk to you?
and you are careful too
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