my heart aches, only for a moment.
It's still trained to jump
at the mention of your name.
But after you brush it off like an unwanted fly,
I learn to swallow and go on.
You wrote me a question mark today,
I replied in excited exclamations,
and applied sweet vanilla perfume to my neck,
just in case,
when all you wanted was a lighter,
not my love's flame.
I laughed loudly at your jokes,
and when I was alone, crumpled against the wall
crushed like the filter of a smoke between your fingers.
But it's only a moment, and it passes,
and I learn to put my smile back on my face.
The next time I see you, my heart will race and ache,
but I'm learning to train it,
like an energetic puppy
hoping for adoption.
This man isn't for you.