Confessions of a libra

Botanica No.23 by Gail Potocki

24.11.24

I love you. A small knowing in the little dark closet of my mind. I push it down. Keep going. Keep your head up. Time comes and goes yet I judge time by our encounters. I’m always between minutes of seeing you. There’s the time with you and the time without. I tell no one. The secret delicious for me to hold. Who could face such depths? Surely, you know. I love you. The voice grows in strength peaking from the closet door. Down, she goes. Into the pits where she belongs. It’s not me, it could never be me. I’m hard and strong. Immovable. Not bogged down by the – I love you.

It gets harder and harder to ignore but I drown it out. It’s not your name on the tip of my tongue. Keep going, keep pushing is the mantra of my days. There’s not enough work. There’s never enough drugs. Cravings haunt me from within seeking release. I want to care for you with the warmth of a thousand suns. Lay my body down. Declare. I love you.