I learned your name
like it was something I could keep.
Turned it over in my mouth,
softened, made space for it
in places you never asked to be.
You were never mine,
not even close,
but mv heart doesn't understand
the difference
between never
and almost.
It reaches for you anyway,
like a reflex,
like a bruise pressed on purpose,
to remind me what hurts.
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New Jeanland
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