Stumbling (in)exclusivity

I apologize for never loving you in private.
I sincerely regret
never knowing
if you were hugging me
or just holding me.
I’m sorry
that more than your adoration
pleased me the shape
of the mouth
of three other men.
I’m sorry for telling you
how you could better
every single thing
about yourself,
and never telling you
that from the place that I see you
You look perfectly enough,
and more.
More than enough,
you make my heart clumsy.
But that is not something
I told you.
But I told this
to four other men
not knowing how serious
I sounded.

I’m sorry for not loving you in private.
But I’m also sorry
for not blowing calm air
on your wounds,
but scratching them.
I’m sorry for never letting you know
if I was hugging you
or just holding you.
I’m sorry that more than me
pleased you the smile
of three other women.
I’m sorry for not bettering
at everything you told me
to better at.
I’m sorry for not listening
when you said
that I seem perfect to you,
because while you were saying it to me
you were also facing
the other way.

How could I possibly know?
Because you never told me
that more than anything,
I make your heart clumsy!
This is not something that
you told me.
I won’t know if you told this
to four other women,
because you were facing
the other way.

I’m sorry we never met in private.
Does it make you feel sorry too?

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