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my love furrows his brow and kisses mine
my love has two cold sparkles
for eyes and hard, gold tornados
for hair and when he speaks he
speaks like pillars of old
hieroglyphs hiding painful truths about the cerebral cortex and so
forth and when my love sits
his back is straight and his chin
is high and when he hugs his arms
are always at the perfect angle
to my body and they're strong and
stiff and so on and he is serious
as muddy children and my love
furrows his brow and kisses mine
then
blows a raspberry on my stomach
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"Life's no fun if you're not insane, otherwise you grow up to be an accountant." -Moi