Love In Negative

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A prose poem.


In my soul I know I'vegotta lose my love for you, but I can't let you go, no matter how impossible you are, no matter how toxic I know it is to live my life in waiting for your lips, to lose my mind in the times you don't commit your all to me as I do to you.

To you I'm just a fantasy that you can live out on demand - you assuming you're the same to me when you're all-consuming in my mind. I'd burn away the world for you; for me you might just start a fire. Yet knowing I delude myself, I still act like you could be mine.

My heart beats faster whenever you're online, but then I get upset when you don't respond in time - 'in time', of course, is something arbitrarily defined. This whole thing's a one-way minefield of personal design. I lash out with silent treatment, like a child, when you retreat into your life, as if you had defiled some sacred bond - some shared unspoken truth - when in fact everything we've left unsaid is unknown, not proof.

When I close my eyes I see you under me, over me, beside me in my embrace - paws clasped and tails entwined - devotion splayed across your face. Future and present fluid and tamed, I see my life stretch on until I'm dying in your arms, my eyes closed not by fear, but calm. Such grand romantic yearning I haven't felt in quite a while - probably says a lot about the way you make me smile how so few have ever done, but I digress.

When I say I am in love with you I mean it. But I don't say it, I hide it, plain as day, in placesyou willnever see. Not that it's much a secret - you might guess if you were asked - but the fact it's left unstated lets us pretend thatit's notfact. Themass ofmiles between us act asadhesive tothe cracks whilethe existence of your partner protects you from my advance.

I still daydream of meeting you and dancing through the night, of touching, feeling, grinding up, leaning in to bite, of kissing your neck, your cheek, your muzzle - I know you wouldn't mind. I'd kiss you on your open mouth and drag you back to mine, where I'd profess my love for you, and you'd respond in kind.

When I wake from the illusion, I feel like I could cry. No matter if I do or don't, part of me always dies. God, it's crushing me, it's killing me, knowing like I do that every path I take will end with me not loving you, and not because you're undeserving, but because this is unrequited, impossible, amoral love, and in my soul I know: I've gotta lose my love for you.

But I can't let you go.