Love isn’t a shoulder, you see, we’re wasting our
Time driving casually down the sidestreets –
Memorizing choreographed sidesteps through the city.
Tell me, what is the color of an apology?
I guess I’ll never see. I won’t worry too much about
Your decency. I’ll get my inspiration
Love isn’t a slowdance with ill-intentions through
Moonlit Skies. We’re wasting our time paying
Respects of desperate voices to Ol’ Blue Eyes.
Driving your car around the block a few times
Just to make certain those favorite lines landed safely
On the ground. Handshaking with Gravity for a job
Love isn’t letting go—getting lost in their routine
And pattern of sleeping. Forgetting which toothbrush
Is yours and at what point you ended up with male clothes
In your laundry. Carelessly relocating home from your body
And placing it in another’s for vulnerable safe keepings. Smiling at
Vices until your facial muscles conspire and contract so even you
Love is saying all of the things you swore you would
Never speak—doing all the things you swore with dramatic
Eyerolling and calloused ears that you would
Never do. Thinking all of the thoughts you promised
In a fit of regret that you wouldn’t dare think. A never
Ending conversation interrupted by tedious