Sunday

I had played many of your kind;
But with you;
My foot got stuck;
And so did my heart.

There was something about my times with you;
That made me think of Sunday;
My pain relief day;
When I’m at my lightest.

You made me feel that way,

Even on a Wednesday.

When you took my hand,
and slowly slid your palm
into mine.
The friction of our palms together
sent a spark to my heart

And since then,

a fire has been burning brightly for you.

I should have gotten the hints,
But I didn’t.
Because I had- excuse my language – loved you too much,

Too fast,

I neglected my reasoning for your charm.

And sacrificed my broken heart for your deficient love. 

Unperturbed about the price I would inevitably have to pay.

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