Shit Happens

You think you’ve seen her naked
because she took her clothes off?
Tell me about her dreams. Tell me
what breaks her heart. What is she
passionate about, and what makes
her cry? Tell me about her childhood.
Better yet, tell me one story about
her that you’re not in.

You’ve seen her skin, and you’ve
touched her body.
But… you still know
as much about her as a book you
once found, but never got
around to opening.

I want that undeniable kind of love

when your mom asks about me
I hope your cheeks turn pink and you have to keep your lips pressed shut because if you open your mouth you won’t be able to keep from telling her how fucking in love you are

the kind of love you wear on all of your clothes
even on your skin
and between strands of hair

the kind of love everyone can see, even when the two of us are on opposite sides of the room

the kind of love that you can see in pictures
and hear in my voice
I want my voice to sound like love
I want strangers to speak to me and think
“wow, she’s in love.”

I hope you never bite me out of the tips of your fingernails
or rinse me out of your hair

I hope you never shrug me off or tell your dad that we’re only friends

because I’ve had that kind of love

love that you can brush under the carpet when you need to
the kind of love that disappears while you kiss her but comes back the second you see me

I don’t want the kind of love that you can ignore,

I want that in your fucking face, in your mouth, in your hair, in your teeth, on your sleeves kind of love.