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A Tiny Boat



I loved you.
But it bothered me
how often I had to remind myself
that I loved you.
There is no love in the forgetting of love.
Love is not a well, to be dipped into
to quench an intermittent thirst.
It is a sea, with three unknown sides,
on which we set out in a tiny boat
aimed toward the sun.

All poems are written and copyrighted by Michael C. Rush.
None may be republished or repurposed without permission.