The last time I said I love you
and meant it
you struck the words straight to the ground
and they found new meaning
mingling with the dirt.
Building up a tolerance for bovine lies,
I waited to pick them back up.
This time I’ll be more vigilant, maybe
launch them right at you,
square in your eyes so that when dirt
trickles off and clouds your vision you won’t know,
it was love that hit you.
But dust clears.
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