Another Love Poem

Your whole being
gets discombobulated.
No way to tell your
heart from everything
else. Tell him you’d
marry him, but this
feels antiquated. Tell
him he’s it, that you’re
done looking for the
rest of eternity. There
are three languages
to love and you hate
all of them. This is what
you do. You invent a new
one and it’s just for
your lips. Don’t tell anyone
else you’re afraid he’ll
push you off a cliff.
That PTSD clip stays
between your lips and eyes.

— published in Linebreak

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