If I ever Hurt You...

I changed my status and proclaimed:     "I was over you"     I lied, I´m sorry     it was a parlor trick I didn´t fall for,  the same way I fell over the rocks in Cuenca  where we kissed the way people fall over themselves  in romantic movies idealized in black and white.     The photos that hurt are the ones  I can´t quite delete from my hard drive  or my memory everyone says to stop  fast forwarding through when I talk about them.  They say I glow you glow,     unlike Manhattan where you said all of those  terrible things  but you were still  the most beautiful woman  I had ever seen, and I fell in love  at first sight twice, something  I was afraid would happen.     My face refuses to glow like it did  in those photos we took in better moments.    The circles underneath my eyes are deeper  in a face darkened in the Missouri sun,  the one place I never thought I would end up;  to the point I almost cry, almost.                I can´t see the photos of your glowing face  without thinking about how often you  are tangled in everything I do.     When your face trembled on the subway ride from Dumbo  trying to break through your voice at a loss for words     "How can you love someone who is mean to you?  I don´t understand it."     I knew then I could never stop loving you.     If I have ever hurt you,  it is only because  I wanted you to know what it felt like  everytime you hurt me.