Emotional Hail Mary’s

All too often, I am the recipient of posthumous affection–
An affirmation arriving way too late.
These are not love letters but obituaries,
More eulogy than sonnet.
“I love you”s are epitaphs to my ears.
They don’t understand that their words don’t adorn me—
They collect dust in a moseleum.
I want a love with as much life as I have,
With a pulse
And sweat,
And better timing.

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