I confess:
I do not know you anymore.
Oh, I think I do.
My mind hints at what you would say,
or how you would say it.
But truth be told, we’re
worlds away. And
for the most part,
that’s fine by me.
Of course, I’ve excluded
the pangs that wrap around
my lungs and squeeze.
I pretend you’re
not happy with her.
Your voice was the first thing
that was supposed to exit
stage left of my mind;
that hasn’t happened yet,
and it’s been too long.

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