This Is Not A Poem About You

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This Is Not A Poem About You

This is the first line
of that poem you asked me to not write.
This is not a poem about you.
These are the lilts of sound
that I have not written for you
the opening gambit of an empty box
overflowing with not you.

(Look, this is the whispered refrain
framed by my lopsided grin
this is the word assurance
to assure
this is not another love poem
I whisper in my beloved lines.)

These are those self-referential words
that literary trick
the eye rolling cheek of it
I put on paper
every thing about not you
the slow middle eight
-so skippable-
of that verse I smiled about
thinking myself so very clever
to write a poem not about you

and these are my closing thoughts
those last lingering lines
of my pointless poetless attempt
(see, not writing about you)
my see-through, shameless gimmick
line on line, word on word
this ink seeping into page
this the penultimate build up to the last lie.
This is not a poem about you.

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