He loves me, not
You were a stranger, then
tall, dark skin, silver beard
You held my gaze, something lingered
You asked if the seat next to me was taken.
I said yes, I was expecting company.
You remember how I like my tea,
send songs with the best lines underlined,
and know how to draw a laugh out of me
your eyes, the way you look at me
As if nothing is more beautiful
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Then your texts become shorter
Messages left hanging, promises unfulfilled
without explanation. You claim fatigue,
and I turn the silence over like a petal,
Looking for answers in its soft edges
He loves me not.
Still, you notice when I’ve gone quiet.
You ask what I meant, then stay for the truth.
He loves me..
Until I ask where we’re going,
Suddenly any topic is better than that
a tenderness that never quite reaches me
He loves me not.
So I count the ways you come closer.
He loves me..
the ways you leave me guessing.
He loves me not.
You hold my hand lovingly as we take a stroll
He loves me..
We bump into a friend of yours
You introduce me as a friend,
He loves me not.
Later, alone, I search the day for proof
the small kindnesses, the careful silences,
each one pointing somewhere different.
One petal says, he loves me
the next, he loves me not
You won’t tell me, and neither will these petals
