Dustin Unger · Jun 5, 2012
I Love You, I'm Dying

I thought you were love

          a guess, based on the
          way you stood without fear
          and fed me mushrooms
     in the laundry room

     a chase ensued, I followed you to
     the corner to buy some cigarettes
     making sure I didn't so much as
           think about the hounds

I averted my eyes, heard a sweet
     sad song for a moment
     and when I looked up
     you were holding up the
                                 heavens

I could love this
I do love this
Maybe it was a sign
Or maybe it was the fungus

 
To comment on this poem, please log in or create a free account
Log in or register to comment