You look better when I close my eyes.
Because I’m a horrible person
a horrible person who still thinks of her when I’m with you.
Yet again, when I’m with her, who I was gets lost.
because honestly, I was broken
—She broke me—
I am broken, but you’ve seen me as whole.

I want to annotate your margins with my mouth.
Then I wanna arch you, till your spine curves.
I’ll take your pretty cover off and touch your soft paperback.
To affirm the words you wrote to me,
So forth, I’ll even say: And I, you.
So I, so you; so much.
You’re so then, such a good girl.
I’d use you and reuse you, maybe even never, ever let go.
You make me turn to our next chapter.
So, I do.

If I shot at a number line,
The chance of hitting it exactly would be 0,
Because a line made only of points has no width,
And points themselves have no size.

So it is impossible to pick a specific point.

So if I had, or did, shoot my shot,
I’d have no chance,
Because she is only his,
And he is hers.

So it is impossible to shoot my shot at her.

Did you even hear me?
   I heard every single me, humbled?

If yesterday had come for you,
               I’d mourn forever.

If today is that day you leave me,
          still I’ll never forget you.

If tomorrow already erased you,
     then maybe I should retrace it.