Embroidery

Like the most delicate embroidery,

my heart is easily sullied,

and when the light in your eyes starts

to be seen by others, it yields

to hurting.

I can’t say those words first.

I know I’m feeling them

but I’ve been building up layers

so I won’t have to take out my needle and threads

and pull new colour through the fabric,

which I must do over and over, it seems.

I don’t want to repair the damage again,

I want you to see how I dwelt

in your last kiss and say those words that

I already know.