The gypsy next door
told me that love was poisonous
as she blew smoke in my face
chanting incomprehensible quotes
amongst scientific findings
proving that swallowing pen ink
causes your stomach to churn
like falling in love.

I drank motor oil
so we could actually go somewhere.

I named stars in your honor
and God himself banished them.

I read college textbooks
because after I told you I believed in love
you told me to grow up.

The turbulence in our tongues
castrates my esophagus
every time I search for you
as if you're the prize in a box of matches.