by Lē Isaac Weaver
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(Text of Poem)
Your people ruined us once
because of something
they feared about me.
It took me years to start looking
for you again.
When I found you in another
it was such a relief.
You again, comforting, abiding.
But I guess there’s just a lot to fear,
because they ruined us again.
I know I won’t find you this time;
I can’t even bring myself to look.
But at least I’m already familiar
with the bittersweet futility
of being here without you.