can I have a singular heart
when my heart’s not in it,
be averse to risk
but never shy of a kiss?
so you thought me sleeping with the enemy
though we weren’t really sleeping
and now you’re keeping me awake
with all your gnashing and crying
all that “how could you”, “I hate you”
and “what the hell was I thinking?”
I thought it was just a friendly kiss
but, well, I had been drinking
we’ve been through thick and thin,
the both of us, and back to fatter
and I thought we’d reached the kind of place
where this sort of shit really didn’t matter
now twenty years long beyond that night
with tankers of oil poured on that water
in our abiding winter of fragile détente
I probably shouldn’t show you this photo
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