, ,

The most trivial things you say or do
that has even the slightest traces
of tenderness
may they be so little
I need a microscope to see them
make me cry in a surge of happiness
crumbs of your heart
my manna from Heaven
enough for the vigilantes of feminism
to want to give me a beating

And when you tell me face-to-face
as obvious and straightforward as you can
in plain and simple words
“I do not want what you want,”
“I cannot give you what you ask of me,”
“I’m sorry I can’t be that man for you,”
I stare at you uncomprehendingly
and refuse to believe it

* * *

I’m going to close my eyes
and count to three
I tell you
here is not
where you want to be.

* * *

Excuse me.
What are you still doing here?