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Cork City 1994
By Denis Mockler
He gushed I love you
I thought You don’t even know me,
but keep doing what you’re doing.
Please don’t stop now.
Afterwards we sat by the window of his bedroom,
drinking coffee and smoking cigarettes.
I wondered would I see him again,
could feel the interest draining away.
I couldn’t fool myself,
once I left I would not return.
I knew that I would search for someone new
next time I was in the city.
I knew I didn’t want him anymore,
and I knew that he didn’t love me.
It wasn’t love.
It was what some people called love,
but I knew in my heart that love was something different.
Love was something out there, somewhere.
Love was something I hadn’t really experienced yet, not fully.
I knew that if I found love then everything would change.
I didn’t find love for a good many years after that,
a good many bedrooms after that,
a good many awkward kisses goodbye.
Love wasn’t what I had expected it to be.
It was bigger than I had imagined, more challenging, more mysterious and painful.
I didn’t expect it would be painful.
I didn’t expect it would be so beautiful either.
It was broader and deeper, and it did change everything,
and even today it keeps changing everything.
I came to realise that love is a power greater than me.
I think of those nights in Cork city often,
grateful that I had the freedom to pursue love,
and grateful for the people that I met along the way.
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