of a cynic,
For years, I asked you to love me back.
It never occurred to me that maybe
you couldn’t. Maybe you shouldn’t.
So this year, I stopped wishing for reciprocity.
Because maybe you couldn’t, maybe you shouldn’t
So instead, this year, I wish for innocence,
because once it’s gone, it’s gone. There’s never another try, another chance.
And for understanding,
because once it’s gone, you’re gone. There’s never another explanation, another excuse.
And for hope,
because once it’s gone, I’m gone,
regardless of your preoccupations.
There’s never another life.
There’s this one, and it’s mine, and it’s not over
If I see you, I’ll see you.