Undress me in rhyme -
We talk ***** in haiku


"You are a bad girl."-
- - - - - -

hey, baby you, tiny little mashed potato heartstrings hangin' from a tenderizer
enough time has elapsed to where it's appropriate for us to address
(what really matters here)
(our letters to home)
(our letters to each other)

road trip checklist numbered 1-49.
the last step is to be discovered later. when we lose track of the metric system and need to borrow a cup of sugar, but this is Australia and what, oh what,
is a cup?
it's bound to happen eventually, is what my mom told me
so there'll have to be two kisses, twice for good measure

the more lies i feed myself, the smaller i become. is this physics or something else that boy who stood me up majored in? tiny things are your thing -
they're mysterious.

i could be small enough to dangle from your pinky finger. i could nestle in your eardrum. i could scale the length of your adam's apple. i could hang-glide from the straight line of your not completely evolved forehead. i could go on forever.

My favorite memory is when i baked myself into three-ingredient peanut butter cookies.
They burned and you lied.
You said something so good couldn't be so simple
And i said "it takes one to know one."