He Who Cannot Love, by Alyssa Yankwitt

There is a man. He is leaving           you
are not sure you want him
to stay.

He will tell you he loves you
while he packs his things               will say
it’s not you             it’s me.

You will nod your head
in agreement
but you will not believe him.

There is a man. He is leaving         you
are not sure you want him
to go.

He will say             you scare me
unable to look you in the eye
you will want to believe him.

This man will leave you
whether you want him        to
or not.

You will wonder
which is worse:             what you will
lose              or
the loss itself?
You will never be sure              because

he who cannot love now                      may
one day love
but will always approach another
wondering                  what is broken?

Alyssa Yankwitt is a poet, teacher, bartender, and earth walker. Most recently, her poems have appeared in Up the Staircase Quarterly, The Missing Slate, IthacaLit, Stone Highway Review and are forthcoming in Milk Sugar, and Pismire Poetry. Alyssa has incurable wanderlust, enjoys drinking whiskey, hates writing about herself in third person, and loves a good disaster.

© 2013, Alyssa Yankwitt