your initials
are the letters
I sneak into my textbooks
let slip in the middle of conversations
say over and over until they sound like
different letters
write on the back of my novels
I play with in my head
bounce them around like they were tiny balls
happy, sad, angry, frustrated; bounce them everywhere
and this does not mean
I still pine for you
it does not mean
I cry at night thinking of you
and it does not mean
I am in love with you
I merely love your initials
they're magical letters
they keep me alive
I only love your initials
do not mistake my poetry
for my love
for it is so much more than that
much more than you and I
and still so pretty, so concise
like your initials

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I promise I only like the initials, not the person