I see the confusion underneath all of these hanky-panky love poems

(Our characters: You, I, them)
(Our sets: love, want)

You want love and
I want you

On odd
numbered days

On even
numbered days

You want me
is interfering
my wanting
them

On odd numbered
weeks

We all pretend
we don't want
anything
ha

Or as needed

In the remainder
we are
a hot mess

Many do
sadly
leave the kitchen

Never leave the kitchen

It,
the kitchen,
will give you
that fine textured finish
we so admire

with its infinite recipes
for want and love
to satisfy need

What line would follow the previous, fellow poet, for you? All the things that fought in my heart for that space quailed.

Copyright@2018 Dennis Willis