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You can ask
every single entry
in my phone book
that on the day I first met you
I knew right away you were trouble:
I told them
you were like a borrowed toy
so exquisite
that it must be returned
as soon as possible
and in mint condition
to the owner
or there’d be hell to pay.

And I actually rushed
through the meeting
explaining what
I was hiring you to do
in as few words as I could
pretending I had somewhere else to be
and walked away briskly
with a sense of relief
for having narrowly escaped
a catastrophe.

But I was wrong.
It was too late
I was too slow
now I only want you for myself