i hate ‘i love you more’
you don’t. you don’t. i know you don’t.
i know i do. i know you don’t.
you ‘don’t’ nearly as much as i do.
you please when you want to please,
and you don’t when you don’t.
every day you don’t.
now when you do it feels so meaningless,
so don’t now, please don’t even try to now.
i think it might be too late.
because every day you didn’t.
was every day i did.
and the divide widened the more i did.
and it will widen and widen and widen and widen.
till it
won’t.

what is Beauty if it doesn’t look like you?
what is Precious if not the sight of you?
what lips so tethered, Scarlett red, she refuse?
what persons scent that she so heavenly pollute?
What is then, my love, if it’s not loving you:
My forever gorgeous hug, my deceiving fruit;
Where course my love while i retrieve mine over you:
How else do i love because i’m in love with you;