Etched

An arrangement of letters  

That bring hope as long lasting as your presence 

I’m fooled by the excitement of surprise 

Spontaneity

I forget it isn’t because of restraint

Rather a forgotten urge that becomes an impulse looking for immediate satisfaction

It is easier to keep a dog desperate for attention in a forgotten kennel behind the shed than it is to care for an overprivileged poodle that will look attractive sitting on your lap

Knitting strings of insults 

I deserve to be torn down 

As I throw every one of them out the slightly cracked window once your image can be seen and your voice heard and your skin felt against cotton

It is what it is 

And it certainly isn’t anything

Its ambiguous ending that seems eternally open-ended will haunt me as long as your

One-time-and-one-time-only 

Sincere embrace 

I have seen people come and go

But I have forgotten many names 

You will be one that is etched in black ink 

Across pieces of me I can not hide

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