for years i was a squirrel
whose nut was engagement;
i would send your mixtape back
with track-by-track reactions. not that
you asked. i would dedicate this poem to you
to force you to read it. i would not give up
until you did, and then i would
blame you for your will-
ful refusal to parry.
i was a content
machine always chasing
the world, begging it
to marry me while burying it
beneath my neediness. mean-
while, over time, i unearthed
a better way: if you want someone
to run to you, better to
start running away.
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