19/1/2023
my love for you is liquid in an overflowing glass that i can’t stop filling yet you won’t drink from it
you tell me you’re not thirsty enough
you’re not sure what you want to drink
maybe my love isn’t for you,
i beg you to drink what’s in the glass
it’s spilling
it’s in constant supply
it flows from my fingers and my tongue
i tell you you’ll never be thirsty again
if you drink from my glass,
you bring it to your lips
‘someone else may be thirstier’ you tell me
‘someone who knows what they want to drink’
it may only overflow for you, i say
my love won’t spill for everyone
creating pools in this way,
what’s wrong with what’s in my glass
that you can’t drink it
‘nothing’ you say
‘there’s nothing wrong with it, but you still can’t make me drink’
i’m drowning
you can’t hear me scream
you’re still thinking about it
toying with the idea
you dip a finger
remembering how it felt before
‘maybe this is what i want to drink’
you hesitate
i am a river
a monument to how i could sustain you
if love alone was life
you swim, you bathe, you dive
you come out dry,
‘perhaps i’m not thirsty, perhaps i don’t want to drink from you after all, but thank you for letting me try’
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