God I want you
in some primal, wild way
animals want each other.
Untamed and full of teeth.
God I want you,
In some chaste, Victorian way.
A glimpse of your ankle
just kills me.
It’s just so strange.
You used to love me,
and now you’re a stranger
who happens to know all
of my secrets.
I want to kiss you.
Like big, fat kisses. Or angels. Or stars.
Or something. I don’t know.
Love poems never make sense to me.
Poets say things like “Your teeth are flowers.”
or “Your eyes are miracles.” But you
aren’t miracles. Or flowers. You
are some sweet girl with a good smile
and a shaky heart. Come kiss me.
I’m in love with the miracle of your body beside my body.
You don’t love someone for their looks, or their clothes, or for their fancy car, but because they sing a song only you can hear.