Left Unsaid: Poetry

He loved her,
she could feel it when
she pressed against him,
That slow sinking feeling,
That head-over-heels feeling,
That it-can-work-out feeling
There was a pride in his
Lovemaking that sometimes
Discouraged her,
As if it were not so much
About them as the performance

She did not think of her
Body as a triathlon track;
All she wanted was to 
be held and loved
Oh, it went through her,
That javelin he tossed,
And how accurate his aim
In finding the weakest link
In her chain of thought:
"I do not want you,"
he said
He pushed her out into
The sunlight,
Beneath the glare
she caught wishes 
in her hands,
Tiny seeds on the breeze,
pressed each one 
to her Tongue,
Felt them trip 
down her Insides
He stood there 
in the shadows,
Seeing things 
he reached out to
Pull her out of the sun:

But it was too late;
she was gone
These moments of
heartbreak are sometimes
so honest, so candid
that it’s amazing that 
we keep breathing at all
To love and on what terms:
The truest question
left unsaid.

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