Today, I understood why I never speak to you
or let you see me or let me see you.
My understanding is the color of strange red pearls
strewn across my yellow belly.
I sing a coward's song.
Today I knew that what I feel for you is not hate, like you think,
but fear that if I trust a civil word between us
you will break the last piece of my heart,
the part your treacherous heel missed the first time and left.
I am wise in cowardice.
Today you crossed my mind and I imagined laughing at your joke
after knowing what I had to say in the morning would be a line that made you smile at noon
if you were still the you I once risked life to love.
You are pollen.
I am allergic.
You are saturated fat.
I am a fragile artery.
You are extravagance.
I am a pauper.
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