He’ll Never Read This

I could continue with
infatuation never kills until
it does. No purple haze,
she would kiss

the ground, eat dirt
again, if she could hold
you longer than a hug
that lasts as long as it takes

to say thank
you. Could turn
a platonic touch
into a secret encounter—your body

against into
hers for a long while.

Those tiny deaths—
they don’t sting too much.

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