by Jane Gu

I have written too many love poems
as someone who has never held hands and felt
    the urge to not let go,
as someone who brushes their lips
against promises they knew were only made to be broken,
as someone who cannot help but see love as something nebulous, inexplicable,
    bordering on nonexistent.
I am a folded crane
secrets refuse to unravel, rather
the creases will not come  o    u      t.
Origami instructions step 1, 2:
    never seem to create the same result.
Somehow, I cannot unfold myself as easily
as I can spill into words.
Blank pages
are a luxury,
You are a page I have yet to turn to.