Friday, December 27, 2013

Love Actually

You are the best kind of cancer
You are the sweetest diabetes.
You are a fabulous pox
On the house of my heart.
You make me want to stay in bed.

I bite my nails for you. I tug
(Like a fat guy)
On my shirt for you.

We are an explosion.
I wish I possessed the words
To adequately illustrate our
But maturity has not come yet.

Until then you are fibromyalgia.
You are ulcerative colitis.
You are not, however, cataracts,

Because I love to watch you
Walk away.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

I love this poem. So sweet and passionate.