he kissed me
by the river —
soft, sweet,
almost right.

but he wasn’t you.
and he didn’t notice
that quietly,
our magic slipped away.

he sent me a text,
still in a haze,
wearing the memory
of my taste
on his lips.

as i read it, i cried.

because i wanted the boy
who broke me,
instead of the boy
who tried.