He never said so emphatically
but I knew just the same
that he didn’t love me and never would.
I was still determined to love him
and the moon lit up that night with
a ring around it confirming the sad truth.
So many moons,
and rings
and nights washed by waiting
If you’re reading this
don’t think you’re him:
You’re not.
You’re not.
image A 22 degree halo around the moon, as seen from Boulder, Colorado by Hustvedt
I've looked at that same moon, and if she's reading this, well, she's not. And when the moon wanes I look at the stars that remain and notice that I am a fan of poems like this.
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