I thought your poem was really sweet,
but
I just don’t think of you that way.

Honestly, sometimes it’s too much:
the endless proclamations,
and the incessant compliments.
Maybe if you were more like Paul --

We got dinner the other night,
Applebees’ Ultimate Trio.
Not once did he
hold a door
or offer to pay.
He didn’t compare me
to the sun,
or the stars,
or anything else for that matter.
He just said,
“You’re ******* hot.”
So we went to his place.