Love used to be this thing that I accepted in small doses. I took what little was on offer, always hoping for more…
I love you.I hear you.I long to be with you.To belong to you.To be yours.
Last year I drove to his house. We were sitting in the car, about to drive to the coffee shop to play cribbage. He looked over at me…
I was a fooldamned by your insolence.Realization I gatheredwas tardy, I suspect.
I felt.I thought.I wrote.
The thick folds of his voiceenter liquid pocketsand drip,dripping.