It’s an arbitrary holiday, yet emptiness I feel
No hand-drawn cards, no warm loving greeting
That touch of a hand just an old dream

The lips that met in the rain
Fading into the ether like everything else you gave me
Within our romance of contingency

I feel alone, no clever way or metaphors to color it
So blunt is how I will say that
It’s only taken a few years to feel it
Seems it is here to stay

“They don’t love you like I love you,” Ms. O sang
And I relate despite what became of this.

They never will.

Please be great. I’ll be the better man of us two.

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