This is one of those days
where I expect you to look back,
to say, Oh, really, I didn’t mean all that.
I lean over to touch your thigh
and you shrink back and flip on
the lights. The room screams no.
I know I said I could live
without this. I know that much.
As you turn away, my lone candle
sets the room on fire. It starts
with the curtains.
I let it burn.
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