You say "Do you love me?"
You want "yes,"
But not love. You say
"I love love love you
soooo much!~"
But not forever,
Not even for long.
Wrong is not in your
Vocabulary for self-reference
And I'm not about to teach you
That "love" is as small as
A bird
On a cold day and as quiet
As the space an ever-stretching
Universe can fill by the
End of "forever."

It gets in -
In the cracks,
In the holes,
But it doesn't flow.
It doesn't drain
When you split apart.
Love is not a girl who can
Wrap herself around a new boy
After a good cry. Love is a softer
Message than candy and flowers,
Less than hanging on him for
Hours and dressing up
To undress later.

"Love" isn't a texted
Proclamation of desire.
It's not what you want.
You want "yes" and
"Like" and "Tomorrow is fine,
Let's go at six."
You want what you have
To be enough.

I have enough without
Fooling myself,
I have enough without your
Kind of help,
Your brand of "love."