it is never
enough
to know
for certain.
unknowing
is a backwards
certainty, though
I’m not sure
I understand.
even still,
what I want
or need meet
in some middle
battleground
of crunching
thoughts and
combative feelings.
this irony of love.
paragon of heartbreak.
opportunities missed,
chances taken.
or not. unspoken
dreams. the tumult
of this timeless
struggle. still
I seek clarity. from
distant eyes, flamed
lips, smiling
mischief, her heat
subdued.
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