put the unrequited in a marbled blue cup. i won’t ask You
to funnel it, to pour a writhing straight line until it goes
dotted, cut here. i won’t ask You to speak. i know how
many words i am worth to You. it isn’t enough to get rid
of me with a clean scrape.
i’ll mop myself off the tile, You go. take my wings.

                                                               should’ve known You
had Your own. want pay for Your time? Your insight?

don’t look at me now. don’t look too hard but don’t glance
either. don’t give me anything else. 
i’m going to turn my back. You go, i’m not watching like
some lovesickened soldier wife or teenage bluejay. don’t
look at the rip marks by my spine. should’ve known You
had Your own. go.        Go.