do not date a girl
who writes.
she will internalize
everything,
carve poems
into your eyelashes
instead of
kissing them,

she will analyze you,
calculate age
from the rings
your coffee cup
leaves
instead of refilling it.

she will memorize
the way your
lips curl around steam,
but not that you
take it
two sugars,
no cream.

she will read your
palm instead of
holding it
against her chest.

she will not
blink
when you leave,
because she is
already
romanticizing it.

Each time I approach the door handle,
she climbs onto my back,
almost choking me with her bony hands,
reminding me of the control that I lack.
And as the day progresses, she whispers her commands into my ear,
repeating them again and again,
just in case I didn't hear.
Each time I open my mouth, she threatens to explode,
for she fears that I will forget that my body
is merely her abode
I am to nurture her and keep her happy,
even if it kills me
for if i don't, i fear she will send me plummeting backwards,
like a ball from a golf tee.
Only when I close my eyes each evening,
does she hop off my back with an almighty heave
and I sigh with relief as I say goodnight to my unwanted visitor
who I fear will never leave

I could get use to
The sound of your sweet, sensual, mesmerizing voice swirling in my head
Getting to know what we feel and want without a word being said
Forking on the table then tightly wrapping my arms around you while spooning in bed

I could get use to
Holding your hand listening to a bird symphony as the setting sun colors the sky
Massaging your mind, rubbing your back, rubbing your low and rubbing you high
Making crazy love to you till the neighbors hear your passionate cry

I could get use to
Opening the book, seeing your face, reading your messages and entering your daily chat
Admiring your beauty night and day, imagining you in nothing but stilettos and cute hat
Playing with your pets, throwing your dog a bone and stroking your ***** cat

I could get use to
Cooking you a special dish and treat and tickling your taste buds with my special honey
Sharing our feelings, dreams and fluids making us giddy, lucid and dizzy
Hovering in your head, swimming in your soul and bewildering your body

I could get use to
Playing board games with you, especially the one that we lay out on the floor
Letting you win, giving you the needed power to say more, more, more
Learning new things, the kind I can’t speak of but will show behind a closed door

I’m so afraid to tell her I love her
so I only do it when I’m drunk,
or we’re drunk together
and still the words nervously tremble
they shake like orange leaves in autumn
and the wind doesn’t carry them
they just fall, quietly and unnoticed
becoming just a nuisance
to later be packed
into black plastic bags
and thrown to the curb.

you were my spine,
now I can't sit up straight.