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you ask me for love
in patterns i don’t recognize
but get angry when i feel lost
and i try to mimic facial expressions and movements of hands
so that you don’t feel caught
but at least I’m trying
strip down shelves I’ve kept hidden
and reorganize objects
the ones you’ll soon throw out
the kind you’ll insist are broken
even if it’s just in your eyes
i’d fix them for you
but all you know how to do
is turn to your side and leave me at last
with the breaking words,
“i don’t want you to”

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