because every time i said it
i wished it was the last.

i willed the words to pass
my lips
and move on to
someone new.

someone else to hold
your name
and hold the loss
the dying embers

as if by bargaining,
the words could leave me a final time
– i do not dare to count –
and at once the weight lifted.

i do not demand a future
filled with passions resembling
and familiar falling
deep troughs

as if by muttering
one last time; you could go with it.


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