If something like true love
existed,
would you really expect it
to fit into a card?
If you were the last person on
Earth, that would mean
I’d be dead, and you’d have
a stupid greeting card
to remember me by.
The other morning
I had an itch
in the back of my throat
and when I scratched it
the only way you can
those deep-down ones,
with muscle contractions
at the base of my tongue,
for a moment there…
…I tasted you.
You’re one of those people
who’s only pretty because
you’re almost …
…you come so close to being
completely repulsive
that the sense of danger
in teetering on that brink
gives your look an excitement
that’s somehow attractive,
like if a butterfly had flapped
its wings somewhere
the moment you were born,
everything might’ve been different
enough to make manifest
your face’s latent hideousness.
Know what I mean?
I could never imagine myself
buying cards like this.
Then a funny thing happened.
I met you.