The Inconvenient I

She will come, I
imagine
to my deathbed
once she knows I
cannot talk

She will cry, hold my
hand
and whisper
once more with feeling
I love you

And she will mean it
because
she can love the you
just not the I

So she will wait
until
the inconvenient I
dies.

2 thoughts on “The Inconvenient I

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