It Was You

I can’t pinpoint
where it all
went wrong –
maybe it was
somewhere between
his hands against someone else’s skin,
and my trite idea
of what I thought love
should have, could have been,
pushing him
further and further
away from me.

I began to grip onto
flashbacks
of his touch,
the sound of his voice
when he was hysterical
with desire,
and the nights
he and I
would lay on the floor
learning every
nuance of one another.

Too oblivious to notice
that it didn’t seem to matter
all that much
that it was him,
because I would have
forced my love
onto anyone
for any semblance
of affection.

It could have been anyone,
but it was you.

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