I am sorry if this hurts your feelings,
but writing poems about you
is more thrilling than loving you.

We are nuzzled in our bean-pod.
Our friends believe that honey hit our heads
when we slept, clandestine morning dew,
that stuck us together like glue.

It has not come apart yet,
saying you are not going anywhere
even if the gun-holders bust our seam.

I do not have to worry about you leaving
but that is why I do.

When you are not watching a ***,
it begins to boil,
& I watch it so hard I am writing about you
as I am in my underground
6AM consciousness, only awake in heart.

We are so okay
I have to think about you hurting me
to remember no one believes in infinity.

No one else is attached like us.
It is actually kind of boring to be eight
years younger than you, settled down
for everyone to laugh at & disbelieve.

But some of the things that sound so silly
make the most sense.