Sticking to the Guns

I said I wouldn’t write a love poem
especially not one for you
There’s not enough content for one anyway.
Not the first time that I met you
with sweat dripping down your brow
and how you wouldn’t let me help you bring
in your luggage.
And how you said I was your best friend once.
And I made you cupcakes for your birthday
because you were new in town and all alone.
And I loved you even then.
Or how I love to watch you
watch you walk, watch you stand
and even though you hate singing
you have the voice of an oceanic god
and it doesn’t turn me on, not one bit
And I’ve never ONCE imagined what it would be like
to crawl over your lap,
sit in front of your face and kiss you
Because I’m not in love and this isn’t a love poem.
I never once thought about how I loved your knowledge either
Who cares what you know about birds, or about mushrooms
Who cares that you like your coffee black
or that for some reason having to pull
a U-ee on a narrow rocky road
sends you into a tizzy of panic
That’s not even endearing.
And I never even cared that liked to
stop your car and roll down the windows
just to look at a cute pup
I don’t even like dogs, just like I don’t love you.
Nope, because like I said,
I wouldn’t write a love poem,
especially not one for you

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