romance.pdf
write me stories
of us
and i’ll read them to you before bed
by candlelight while the snowstorm frosts everything in sight.
write me stories
of us,
of the dream i never thought would be real
of two girls, two gays, two wide-mouthed losers.
write me stories
for you are my favorite author
and i await every word you type
in my favorite font.
write me stories
and end them all with “et cetera”
end them all with a french phrase i don’t know how to pronounce
and i’ll know what you mean nonetheless
let me write you stories, my love
tales of two girls who saved each other
from roofs and open windows
from mothers and callous metaphorical women
let me tell you of our future
for i am a prophet.
for you and me, my retinas see...glory. agonizing glory.
my eyes see empty bowls of spaghetti
and black and white maid costumes
and unpopped popcorn kernels
and roboto, serif headings of roboto
and glasses of lukewarm tap water
and boxes on porches
and hickies and stolen, midnight neck kisses
and bitten off fingernails
and empty kleenex boxes
and the chair from our therapists’ offices
and 32GB flashdrives
and new york time best sellers
and fame
and torture
and agonizing glory.
my retinas see a world where you and i
can live in peace
without the grasp of lemyn o’mania.
without the grasp of amnesia.
let me take care of you
tuck you underneath your red and yellow covers
kiss your forehead and tell you i love you
while the world caves in outside.
let me adore you
admiring every pixel of your face
and every laugh, and every giggle
in awe of your effortless grace i know you deny.
let me write to you
just a little while longer
for i do not know romance
but i am
The Author.
