I won't tell you again
that I'm lonely and I miss you.
I won't tell you (not once)
that I dream of when I might kiss you.
I won't tell you,
I won't, I just won't.
I'll not hint that I even deign to care
I shan't shower you with gifts from here and from there.
I'll not agree with a thing that you say
and I'll not sit in your lap for hours each day.
My corner is over there
and I in my corner
shall sit in my chair.
I'm not waiting,
I'm not looking,
I'm probably just sitting,
not thinking about cooking
a feast to celebrate
your return
from elsewhere.
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