Can I even tell you?
After all this time, would ever be a bad time?
If only "after all's been said and done" could apply
Whatever ever after
---but I wouldn't even know what to say
Or how to
Break the ice.
Although I suppose
If you ever wanted to,
You would've done so yourself.
That you had forgotten
That I, despite all my attempts,
Wanted more than a single monthly encounter.
But make your excuses
That's fine, of course,
Because it's not like we'd meet again.
You surely understand
That, having met so many times before,
We'd never be able to keep track of whether we'd met already.
Your sympathies remain empty
And despite your, ugh, "exhortations,"
I don't think you ever really loved me in the first place.
And your oblivious remarks
Could never help the way they hurt, it's true,
So I will take my time if you want me to come help you.
We're proving us both ignorant
That you reveal secrets to me and no other,
Long after everyone else had been told.
So by what selection
What means of divination, if you even believe,
Had I been chosen to yet remain the sconce of your brazier.
Did you decide
That I would be made miserable, for the sake of misery,
That you might intone enough to count as friendly.
To cut me out
Is all I could want from you, and yet,
You've made it impossible to leave.
