still I love you.

I know at times I take on your faults. I believe. I change. I see you don’t.

I sip your poison. It doesn’t kill me, not yet.

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MicroPoems Ep. 3

11.

Making the strings sing
relieves me of all pain.

***

12.

In bed, and again
my mind spills,
leaving
only thoughts of you.

***

13.

Time ticks
away, the seconds pass
you’re drawn ever closer.
Friday.

***

14.

Each time you come in,
you destroy all there before.

***

15.

Staccato messages swapped,
a nod to our natural tide
retreating from a false-love’s lust.