and when you accuse
me of being too nosy,
thinking too deeply into
it, remember:
I was in love with you,
once. My whole self
a freefall. I'm entitled
to my knowing of you,
asking questions with a precision
that uneases. So don't pretend
there was never something.
Lying has always looked
bad on you, but shame.
Shame?
That has you looking
like a fool.