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A Digression

Not sure if I love being angry with you,
Or if I'm just angry that I love you.
Maybe a bit of both, as I confess,
That this perfect path has digressed.

And there is nothing that makes me
Feel more insecure
Than not being sure
If this romance is honest and pure,
Or if it's a heavily masked detour.
Is this romance just a dance,
That happened purely by chance?

If so, let me lie in the crook of your collar bone
(Which I love so much)
And let me use your legs as a crutch,
So that I won't cry at your touch.

But if this romance is something more
Than a cure to our juvenile bore,
Then please do let me know.

I don't want to be one to
Dip red roses in tar
No, I want to lie under the stars,
Counting each one as we go.

On a midsummer night,
Where the moon shines so bright,
Let us examine each constellation.
Let us take a long vacation,
As we number each star that passes through.

It would take forever,
Which is how long I'd like to be with you.

Even though my tongue scorches itself with its words,
You can trust in my verse.
You can trust in the words that tumble from my soul,
That I have never felt more whole,
Than I do when I am with you.

Believe that I've never said this to anyone else, please do,
For otherwise I would tell you.
Yes, I have loved and bent my heart in two,
Yes, I have been so in lust that my conscience flew,
No, I have never felt such a way as I do with you,
Believe me, please do.

For I don't love being angry with you,
I'm angry that I love thee,
Because I don't know if you'd write the same poem for me.




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