If…but I haven’t.

by elizabeth

If I wrote a poem for you,
it would go something like this:

“The air is cold tonight, and
points toward your arms.”

It would contain Nerudian contradictions
like “I loved you sometimes

and I hated you sometimes
I’m convinced I’ve always loved you.”

It would contain images that engrave
themselves on your body
like tattoos, permenant
and something you thought
beautiful (at one time),

now it’s stretched,
and graying with age.