foolish to believe there was ever a stream,
unarmed floods of love
flushed before it could rise
i can’t hear your criticism
it withered with the men
who once pretended i was malleable
my only mistake was writing about love
i didn’t have to put my pen down
you should’ve been
i didn’t lose my skills
i just hadn’t reached
heights you’ll never reach
it’s no surprise the basins
never filled the love river
i did predict it
hate filled your veins—
not blood,
just clogged sewage