Get Over It. 

Michelle Parkinson

I took your hand and told you

Through the medium of stoned telepathy

that it’s OK – what you said yesterday.

You don’t even know you’ve said anything

You might have sensed something

A-miss in our usual bliss

But you’ve matched my silence

On the subject.

You said one word -saggy.

I’ve said a thousand since

Just none of ’em to you.

You’ve had

A letter AND a poem

You just don’t know they exist.

I’m a writer,

That’s how I deal with shit.

I’ve decided that

It’s time to get over it.

So I take your hand as

We walk and I

Give it a squeeze and it’s fits

In mine like it’s the last one

I’ll ever hold.

So, there it is

I forgive.

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