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He Loves Me, He Loves Me Not - written in 2002

 

I drew the first,
Observing every shift
As it lingered to the ground.
He loves me.

The second's doom descended with uneasy agitation.
He loves me not.
The third floated anxiously toward the earthy soil.
He loves me.

I grasped the fourth brittle bud.
It staggered to and fro
Strangling all hope I ever had inside of me,
Forcing me to believe there was a predestined tragic end.

But many blooms remained.
I drew each with caution and hope.
Yet each fell,
Weary of my love-binding superstition.

The last petal,
Honest in its fate,
Affectionately drifted
Until it reached the terrene barricade.

My heart filled
With the longing for embrace
That I possess.
My destiny was inevitable.

He Loves Me.


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