she's brilliant and I know I'm in trouble the last poem I wrote and she never responded because the last poem before that was meant to convey Love but somehow I mentioned the holocaust of which she's a third generation survivor and now my poems are tainted with the blood and ****** I'm reminded I'm off kilter maybe I'll leave her lonely and that'll fix her I'm not being spoken to anymore but in a moment or two I'll be reminded with another fixture for my attachment that I'm a ***** loose neighborhood of abandoned houses
a much lengthy version to come where I'll shamelessly revisit all my past loves (like 6) that stopped talking to me. Ya know what, I'll do it as a series. Better chance they'll be read.