Is it not odd that in relationsips

the demand of that frighful phrase

is sought out too quickly

and not fast enough?


This single dirty, beautiful phrase

infests my sinking heart

shredding each path

until this one.


For no special reason

this one is not as difficult.

Maybe... Twisted? Swirly?

Downside up.


I don't know if I could.

I don't know if I will. and

I don't right now, but

I'll be here as long as you are because

this one is downside up perfect.

This poem is about: