Oct 2015
"I love you."
It feels like;
Last week,
Everything in your house
moved--
Inexplicably--
Two inches left.
You still haven't yet found
Why your hip is
Permanently purple
From kissing the desk
You've never collided with before.
The words I'm looking for
Are two inches to the right;
But if I took that phrase and
Shifted it it,
All that would leave my throat
Was the sound of
Bruised skin;
Permanently purple
From hitting the words
I've never felt were less than satisfactory before
Because the words I need don't
Actually exist.
It feels like;
Last week,
Everything in your house
moved--
Inexplicably--
Two inches left.
You still haven't yet found
Why your hip is
Permanently purple
From kissing the desk
You've never collided with before.
The words I'm looking for
Are two inches to the right;
But if I took that phrase and
Shifted it it,
All that would leave my throat
Was the sound of
Bruised skin;
Permanently purple
From hitting the words
I've never felt were less than satisfactory before
Because the words I need don't
Actually exist.
Jesus, look at me. I'm on a roll with love poems. I'm not saying my love for him transcends anything, just that it's.... Different. And "I love you" feels awkward on our tongues, but we say it because it's the best we've got.
