spending a summer afternoon eating a box of cherries in bed

is arguably a very sexy thing to do
unlike drinking red bull in the shower,

which is the other meal i had today
writing a love poem is like writing contract

if it seems convincing enough, no-one reads every word
i’m giving sentiment a go and it’s going fine: in fact

i’m going at it with mawkish sincerity!

putting down one word after another. focussing on

purpose, genre, context— esses, effs, long vowels…………
writing something like: “baby, you make me feel [fill in later]”

a love poem is basically like a long-ass greeting card
& isn’t the history of western intimacy

just footnotes to Hallmark? i feel smarter

when i say that than i do

with my tongue on your neck,
or pushing my face into your stomach—

it’s like see the face of god—
what do you reckon? does this gesture

convey meaning? i’m “going out on a limb”
as if we fall the same way. when you go,

it will be like rain does, easy, always into something new.

not like me—a brick—thrown like an afterthought

and breaking every branch on the way down