It’s not that I don’t see the stars in your eyes
when you look at her
or the way your fingers ache
to write poetry on her skin
every time she’s around.
It’s just that
I would rather choose selective amnesia
than a relentless chainsaw through my heart
reminding me of how you’ll never love me.

I collect the smiles you give me
and keep them in the corners of my mind
like little treasures I can think of later
when the night is too long
the darkness all consuming
and my heartbreak is ringing like sirens
through my fire alarm heart.

I don’t ask too many questions about her
or dwell too much on the day
our friendship will disintegrate
at hands of my unrequited love.
Instead I focus on the way our shoulders
are touching as we sit next to each other
and how this slightest touch is like fire
spreading through my skin.