My love for you is smarter than it looks
it sizes up its opportunities
seizes them, each for what it's worth -
its sneakered feet sneaking round corners
spying upon you for your weak moments -
devious in its sly insinuations, whispered
sweet nothings, nothing-definitives,
nothing-you-can-proves. And yet -
despite, or in spite of, or perhaps
out of spite, to spite itself -
my love for you
loves you
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