Love is that time I watched you undress

and you didn’t care.

I loved you ‘till you finished

and threw a tantrum on your thighs

 

Love is a kiss in the rain.

I drown for love, yes

like a fool.

To love is to have an affinity

for umbrellas.

 

To love is to find one’s self

in the desert of the heart--

the heart of isolation. 

To love, is to love there;

where the roof of your mouth is scraped

by sandpaper tongue;

where the weather’s so hot

your head boils

and brain stews.

 

Love is a rescue plane

shot down in the Atlantic.

Love is to be stranded

while looking for romance.

 

Why guide one's self

with such a faulty compass?

Why, romance is

for the lion tamers

 

To have faith in love

is to put trust in a hungry animal.

And to pacify love with romance

Is to stick your head inside its mouth—

 

So what is love if not the

fragrances of old romances

gone rancid in a wine bottle

behind the bed?

Or a kiss between the hips?

What is love but

a dislocated jaw?