season’s finale

rereading your poems
in slow realization…

he was not the one
coming at night
dominating you
then disappearing
silently into the night
your uncomic Batman
fighting the corrupt world

not much
poetry written about him
rather than the bulk
of self-reflection
the sheer spectrum
of emotions
narrowed down
to
fear
anxiety
and jealous bursts…

your unintimated self
filled with nostalgia
about the crystal clear
arrangements
and safe transactions
with the waiting line
of potential loverboys

you looking for those
resembling him the most
as resemblance
relieved you from the guilt
the lie and the cheat
covering the secret affairs
keeping them away
from the healthy parts of you

tearless
emotionless
mechanical gimick
of a couple

what brought you back
rereading him
and the hesitant man
you noticed inside
chased you away
correct?

back to the curiousness
of opening a new book

p.s. the no-hesitance of love