when I show him to you, your forehead
is enveloped in creases —
“he has to go,
he probably carries diseases.”

“But don't you like this guy?”
“I mean, he seems kind of useless,
and how will you feed him,
he looks kind of toothless.”

(this is when I knew
not to associate with you,
'*** you were absolutely
goddamnfuckingclueless.)

“Really…?” I ****,
to which you only nod.
I shrug: “Well, to me,
he’s a little green God.”