What she doesn't know




I could fill our world with songs

of what she doesn't know

and they would be songs of lament

and joy and celebration

and all would bear her name.


I could write a trillion stars

into being, each one with its own life-bearing planet,

a trillion worlds full of sadness,

a trillion planets full of things she will never understand,

never forgive, never allow and never have.


I can speak her name,

just once, 

and the sorrow in my voice

will say all this and more,

but she will never listen.


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