"i'm not a poet"
i grinned sheepishly, in apology, and refused to meet his gaze
"i know, jo. no one here is. just give us a metaphor for love"
irritated
i complied, spewed out cliched nonsense
he chose his next victim

but you see, professor, i don't think you understood
beyond the exterior of (unintentional) rebellious sarcasm
with four words, i was telling you
"i am no wordsmith
i cannot beautify my pain
create meaning from this chaotic mess of a world
i do not know love
death, tragedy, true loss"

now, do you see?
"i'm not a poet"