Non-Erotic PoetryIt didn't happenIt didn't happen
We never shared
Shostakovich and Beethoven,
never melted together before
Monet or Degas.
It didn't happen.
We never explored
islands and architecture,
nor nourished our children together.
We weren't lifemates.
It didn't happen.
Never wrote and edited
in excitement, for each other.
It was all just
the most heartbreaking illusion.
So it can't have happened,
can it?
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