There is no love in what I feel for you. There is desire, pain, joy, and grief; no love, Though longing squats within my chest, the old Unwanted guest I never can evict. Believ’d was I in love most of my life, The subject of as hidden from myself As one born speaking language dead to all But those who pass’d ten centuries ago. But now I know the difference between My love and longing, twins made from two types Of stone. When thorns are birthed between your lips: “I think I fall in love with everyone,” My wounded heart has barely strength to breathe, “And yet you never fell in love with me.”
A.G. Angevine is a queer writer and actor from the Pacific Northwest. She lives with two cats, two humans, and two very dramatic peace lilies.