one day

where the river ends and empties into the sea,
where the pebbles shift into sand,
sit among the empty shells whose creatures left
the homeless leaves, the water ghosts, the-

you are for somebody a bag of salt, spilling into the sea
somewhere, when they
glance into their pasts

those moments shift
you into a spoonful of salt
in your mouth

sit until it dissolves
sit until your words dissolve
sit until your thoughts-
until you-

hang a crescent paper moon
in a sunlit corner of your room
thin thin thin as a shadow

remember the love
that felt like a sin, sin, sin,  remember
the apple slice razor edge
of it slicing through the strings
in your voice

some questions, the brutal taste of which,
you will never forget
and which you will never again allow
in your mouth:

“Was it real?”

“Did you have feelings for me?”

“Will you miss me?”

one day,
you learn – you
– you learn about everything
unspeakably humiliating
you have done to yourself.

you are not a victim.
you are not a survivor.

you did not survive anything.

you are not who you were

and that’s ok:

no one survives life.

one day,

it is enough to love

it is enough to be careful

it is enough to not be bitter

and it is alright to never have been loved

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