To the Unavailable Lover

I know. I have left you With your worst enemy: your own. I am only keeping what I’ve unlearnt Throughout your education of me: The enchantment of dialogic desire And the near perfection of shared intimacy. In this furnished house of you, I walked in and I walked out Because I am not yours to hold And mould into a keepsake. You think the unchanged shall rob Me more and dare me less Than living in the adventure of you. While the projection of me bears fault, The inside woman is burdened, Yet, alive and introvertedly poignant. Indeed, I live coarsely and serve the devil That pulls at my flesh till words sprout Into wingless birds of ink And I give myself more to this dream Of a minor god than to your atomized Version of how love has never failed me. Still, who dreamt up whom in the end?