Days Before the Poetry Launch

You can
tell me you care
by giving me a
fight. So many
Gentle words,
as if  I
really met you
have lightened the
space between us,
for grinding cold weeks.
I tire of pretending to be
on virtual knees.
You can only
buy a token,
lend an eye,
a finger press.
I hold the flesh
Of accumulation.
I collected
and bear it.
I have paid the fee.