I asked her,
“What about us?”
She firmly reminded me
The story I’d told her about
How she didn’t exist
And how
I could make a million more
Just like her –
This idea of unity
Gone so wrong.
I didn’t know how
To tell her
So many beautiful options
But none of them
Were quite
What she had been.
And love, you see
Would never
think any of them
Lacking.
I didn’t ask
If she loved me still.
Poetry