The revelations end up
lukewarm, nothing like you had imagined,
spark plug pulled, cheap trick
not nearly as spectacular
as the truth your heart had crafted.
I should have known,
sleep stroking our brows,
when I told you, I wanted to show you the willow tree.
Yet walking by morning,
I had not the heart
to take you to it,
your head tightly folded
inside your agenda.
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