I fall in love at least once every day
And twice a day on weekends.

I once fell for the sun and the moon
on the same glittering, empty night;
And I was so happy that day that I didn't even care
when you called me strange.

I have loved the delirious grey of the ocean before a storm,
the taste of chocolate on cloudless nights,
the vicious crack of lightning over the roof,
So I didn't care if I wasn't a part of any of your stories.

I loved the neighborhood stray, with all its feral grace and matted fir,
I loved the fields of waving grass even while the sun beat down on me,
I loved that ridiculous tie you wore yesterday,
All so I wouldn't have to love you.

On my darker nights,
I loved the flash of glass as it shattered against the wall,
the shine of the knives in the bottom of the drawer,
the sweet, dim glow of the brown bottle under the sink;
They all tempted me more than you ever did.

Sunsets and sunrises
Bug bites and bee stings
Poetry in the springtime
And the taste of popcorn in darkened theatres.
Rain on the rooftop

And mostly,
you.

You see, I have a problem,
A bad habit, if you will.
I only love things
that cannot love me.