I don't want
to write about
fireworks,
and butterflies
and pretty
stars in
perfect
skys.
I want
to write about
the gaps
in your teeth
and the way
your voice
sounds when
you're angry
I want
to write about
the mess of
clothing
that you
don't even
wear,
all over
your bedroom
floor
I want
to write about
the tears
on your pillowcase
and the way
you so often
fail to make
sense
in the morning
I don't want
to write about
all of the perfect
things you do
I want
to write about
why I'm
in love with you
and
I want my words
to prove that
there's nothing
you do
that
I'm not
attracted to
...