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2021-01-03, posts


Writer: back down.

No amount of poetry flirts with the woman who does not read.

No words seduce the woman who fetishizes silence.

In my world, the words,

I love you.”

fly across the page when said. Those words dash from one mouth to the other and bites on the way out. The interlocutors interlock lips.

I shut my mouth and you filled the silence with a gaze I suspect kills most victims.

I thought reticence meant resistance. It meant: Stop talking and start fucking. Then you will know.”

Grant me forgiveness — not for being late to notice, but for still having to put it in language, on paper, still having to consult my interpreter before loving.