I don’t know what to make of it
When he never turns back once he leaves
Sometimes, I think, he notices too much of the obvious
I wonder if he can ever see the subtleties
Like the saved pictures of poems on my phone
And how sometimes they break my heart
I wonder if he notices
That I like odd numbers more than even numbers
And somehow prime numbers are my favorite
Does he notice that I fall in love more with movie trailers
Than the movie itself
Does he see a pattern in all this?
Does he wonder what it means?
Because sometimes I wonder
Whether I want to be loved as a whole
Or for beautiful little subtleties.

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