Anti-Love Letter

{Dear John, I’ve moved on.}


You might want to sit down for this,
oh most distinguished one. By the
time you find this note, this mid
-night rote, I will be gone, lost
among the stars. See these,

my scars? They’re where you’ve
burned me once too many times,
broken through the lines
(crossed, uncrossed,
and snapped
in two)
and Buddy, I’ve got news
for you: you’re toxic.

I’m tired of apologies and roses
(by the way, they die)
and I think that I
shall take a pass
on your last offer. I’m starving
for something more, some quiet
private place to store my dreams
before you’ve seen them,
turned them into dust devil
disasters and threadbare storms.

I am warrior now, and brave.
Saved by some small glimpse of moon.
She waxes and she wanes, and still
we love her.

Forgive me for the loss of marbled childhood
crush, and adolescent flush,
and August rush and hints of con
-strained shout. Without a ceremony,
pause or doubt,

I’ve flushed it all down the John.
Now, moving on…

In November, we poem


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4 Responses to Anti-Love Letter

  1. rainbow braids says:

    I love this!!! Especially that sneaky August Rush reference. 🙂

  2. Good one! I love “…dust devil disasters and threadbare storms.”

  3. I am really enjoying these November poems of yours. I’m very impressed.

  4. whimsygizmo says:

    Thank you both, so much.

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