Never have I been lazy in love.
It was all or nothing.
Goosebumps or indifference.
Either I look at you and you only,
or I never look your way at all.
Either I beat my chest repeatedly in mourning,
or I come up empty with nothing to mourn.
Whatever I do, no matter the extent of the torture,
I do not love in halves.
To do so would be a coward’s crime.