they don't know like he does how her bottom teeth overlap at the front like boat sails / or that three moles on her thighs are the perfect example of an isosceles triangle / they don't know that when they sleep their feet fit together like bunch of bananas / or that when she traced circles in his hair it made a direct imprint on his soul / that's why they say she's not worth it / that's why he knows they are wrong.
Your name sits on the tip of my tongue,
Along with bitter aberrations
Of love and loathing.
Your name commingles in my veins,
And tips my stomach
Like a tugboat in a hurricane.
In the years I have grown,
I have been shown the difference
Between the good and the bad.
I exhausted the arms on the clock
Arranging daisies of adoration
In the souls of those who were rotten.
Even the one I thought was impeccable
Has placed me on a shelf of old seashells
And bottled ships.
Zig-zag was the last word
in the picture dictionary on
the old forgotten bookshelf
of my childhood.
These roses on the flower beds,
planted a decade and a half ago -
run zig-zag like a bee on a hunt.
Much like, your love