“I Confess I Still Love You”

Please don’t hate the messenger. Your sister

Is passing on this note (or so she swore)

Because she had that cold sore when I kissed her,

And claims this pays her debt. This once. No more.



Since you won’t take my calls, I’m out here praying

You’ll read this letter, written from my heart.

Some things I never told you have been weighing

On my conscience since we’ve been apart.



Remember how, in tragedy, we bonded?

Your dog had been run over. You were grieving.

“Love never dies,” I said, and you responded,

“I’m glad you’re here.” I said, “I’m never leaving.”



You interpreted my trembling as simpatico,

Though it was nerves. I’d come there to confess.

But it was awkward, and besides I had to go.

You know how my nerves trigger IBS.



But it’s long overdue that I admit it.

Let’s finally put that mystery to rest.

I wish I’d never said your neighbor did it:

I killed your dog. Whew! Glad that’s off my chest.



You kicked me out because I was a liar,

So you said. But this confession cleans the slate.

Love never dies? You’re preaching to the choir.

Let’s start again. I know it’s not too late.



Farewell, now. Thank your sister for her service.

P.S., I hope this post script doesn’t spoil it,

But as you’ve guessed, I’m waiting outside, nervous.

May I please come inside and use your toilet?


About the author

Shawn M. Klimek is a globetrotting, U.S. military spouse, creative writer and butler to a Maltese puppy. His speculative fiction, humor, and poetry have been published in dozens of e-zines and anthologies, including Gold: The Best of Clarendon House Anthologies, Volume One, 2017/2018. Facebook and Amazon.


Shawn M. Klimek