Agatha Tutia
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three loves dead

 
 

Sweet nothing

I stared as long as possible.

Trying to capture every freckle and mole on his
face, shoulders, chest, stomach
because I knew I’d never rest beside him again.

 

I do not want to drown

Letting you go
admits the cruel fact
that I must endure being alone.

I must knife through every single rope
the Fates binded us with.
I must choke away any tender attachment,
every cherished touch, kiss, look.

Because if I don’t,
if I can’t let you go,
then I will drown
and I will die.

 

Just not there

I cry when I leave you.
Not because I love you so dearly that it hurts to part,
but because I feel nothing.