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JAC Mar 2018
Like pajama clothes
we don't at all match

incompatibility clashes
you'd never wear us out

we fit poorly in pattern and
nightmarish combination

we are cut of conflicting cloth
and yet we are so comfortable.
Truly a love poem.
JAC Mar 2018
We can sit
wherever

we want
to sit and

we can
count the

fireflies
that shy

away from
kissing us.
JAC Mar 2018
There was a time
when I wrote poems
about longing and love

but I love how long it's been
since that was okay, since
I didn't have other things
to worry about, to think
about, to dream about.

Lovers and dreamers
write out your hearts
but I am no longer
one of your many.
JAC Mar 2018
The thing is
after a sunset
things get dark.
JAC Mar 2018
How strange it is
that I don't write poems
when I'm with you.
JAC Mar 2018
Dying to live as if he was dying
he spoke of sleep in melatonin growl
all was grey in his sepia expression
and he dare not remember his name

with a twist of overqualified hands
he dragged the scratch ticket up an inch
across the faux-velvet subway seat
in regretful pull of the gambling fool

screeching between unsettled destination
he wrung friendly hands left alone for years
mottled digits that knew all so well
why his wife preferred the sofa.
JAC Mar 2018
You don't expect
the best of me

so some days
I can make you
so so happy

and others
you know
I'm trying.
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