walked down to the creek
and sat on the bridge yesterday
to write a Valentine’s Day poem
waterfalls are happy sounds
but not mixed with constant
“what’re you writing about?”
which left me with interrupted thoughts
lame lyrics and wanting to say
it’s about Cupid stupid
luckily the stream didn’t stop
to chat and the afternoon began
to tilt in my silent favor
after a while I realized once again
that words can only dress like love
can never mimic the feeling
love needs the performance of two
kind of like water needs a mouth
and both to fall into each other’s arms
and forget that thirst
was ever a word
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