Self sabotage

My word, you’re wonderful.
I could squeeze you
until your limbs fall off
and pile up into heart shapes.
I could flatten you round like a discus
and kiss you in my palm
and lob you across the world.
I could fold you into a first class letter
and send you to the Queen
for her 100th birthday.
I could frame you and star you in an art exhibition
I couldn’t afford a ticket to get into.
I could look you in the eye
and see a reflection
that doesn’t deserve to live in them.
But I won’t. No way.

© Carl Burkitt 2020

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