I talk too much
And usually people tune out
Or walk away
Or say,
“I need to work on my own shit.
It’s not you; it’s me.”
Or say,
“Come on, get to the point.”
If I knew what the point is,
Maybe I could keep it in my head
Long enough to get there.
My ideal lover simply listens
And when the words end
Is still there
Saying, “I know.”
Making love
Is the absence of words
The only time my soul is quiet.
Words just won’t do.
Words come too easily with solitude
Because they’re all I have to love
And sometimes I can’t stop
It’s like the floodgates
Went south for the winter
And in the river’s path
is my broken heart.

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