i’ve dated boys who didn’t make me laugh, boys who took me to stuffy museums and bland restaurants and told me i should be veiling my hair in church i thought i was doing the right thing, i thought my parents would be proud of me, i thought maybe i could conjure up some kind of feeling in my stubborn heart that would make it worth my while, everything i was always supposed to want in one
instead, i found you: a boy who likes silly accents and sneakers and telling jokes that turn me into puddles at his feet, who lives with his mother and makes art from obscure things, who paints just to get the words out and never matches his clothes bright eyes begging me to follow, making it up as we go along, who needs the rule book, who has time to read? and if there is a better way, we don’t need it; we’ll take the mess. see, we’re already there, and if there is a better way, i wouldn’t know it