i was asked by a passerby
if i knew today would be the
last of my days on this planet
and had just one more
chance
at unrequited love,
what would be the title
of the ad i’d
place in the
last chance
romance
press
i scratched my head for a second,
thinking something witty would
be the way to catch this
kitty that’s escaped my
bruised paws
but really there is no perfect line
to write, we’re more complicated
than a mad lib
game
what with all the mad libs
running around the globe,
protecting us from free
form feelings
how can i love if
i can’t feel hurt
if i can’t
see blood
on my hands
at night
from the
relationships i strangle
to death within my
own self pity
it was then that i noticed the passerby
had went and passed me by
and that’s when i etched into the fresh cement:
“Seeking she, too listen to the sounds, with.”