She wraps the word up in French,
like a foreign language leaves her
one step removed
from the vulnerable truth-
she has a love in her hands
that she cannot drop no matter if
it matches what’s in mine.
But there is no armor,
no matter how she hides the word,
to guard her heart from what she holds.
I know,
for je l’aime, too.
Look before you leap, they said,
and that is precisely what I did;
looking back to see
who was gaining on me,
now look what a mess I’ve made.
I enjoyed your poem.
You got me at the close.
I can’t speak French.
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I love it!
And me neither, LOL. I do a lot of strange research when writing. Usually about more scientific matters, though!
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A beautiful play on words!
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Thank you!
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