I could choose to take
everything you say
with bags of salt
the sum of all your words
to be less than their parts,
the letters not written
the cheap ink
the art
without proper full stops
a lie; a part
or I could fool myself
hoping that you
actually care
noticing that I had
lost some weight
cracking up at my jokes
wanting to share
your time and my
thoughts
What would you answer
if you had read this far
am I dillusional or is
this summer at
last
