a messy poem

no matter how many ways
we can devise
to separate and arrange letters
there will never be
a word or sentence or phrase
that adequately conveys
how much I feel for you
the swirling mix in me
of need and joy and rage and magic
combine in such a muddle
I’m left stunned every time I see you
and throwing myself at you
and writing messy poems
well, it’s the best I can do

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