I don’t think about you

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I don’t think about you
the way I don’t think about
the air I breathe
the warmth of my sheets
the feel of my
naked skin
You do not cross my mind
like the sky
or the new smell of
autumn leaves
the cold floor under my feet
the scars on my knees
(spent too much time
climbing & falling off
trees)
I don’t think about you

I don’t ever need to

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Ruminations

If the object of my love
Is a lie
What of my love?

I like to think sometimes that
Love is a promise
Fulfilled
When kindred spirits meet again
– yet
Can I say that it is you
That I have recognized​?

If the object of my love
Is a lie
What of my pain?

Did I recognize​ a face in the crowd
And wave at a stranger
Who happened to smile back?

If the object of my love
Is a lie
Am I mourning
The loss of you?
Or the loss of a promise?

If the object of my love
Is a lie,
Only silence
Remains