“You and I are not the same” A Distinction (Apparently)
You were admirably direct
no coyness, no restraint
just his face, everywhere,
as though frequency might pass for fact.
One does appreciate conviction.
And that neat little line you chose
so certain, so pleased with itself
it almost worked,
if one hadn’t heard otherwise.
He was quite clear, you see.
No tragedy, no confusion
only the quiet admission
that he didn’t even like you.
It does rather undo the aesthetic.
Still, you persisted
which I find touching.
To labour so faithfully
at turning attention into triumph,
to mistake interference
for being wanted
there’s a kind of bravery in that.
Misplaced, of course,
but consistent.
You were right about one thing, though.
We are not the same.
I never had to parade a man
to feel he was mine,
and I’ve never needed to diminish another woman
to feel I’d been chosen.
Bleu de minuit 