the date looks like tally marks

and that would make sense

to a man like you

 

logic reads every word for you

and your biggest fan

is a mathematician

 

you smile at me

and your teeth

are tiny computers

calculating

question,statement,response

and i just laugh,

story-eyed

 

we’re cooking and

you say the broccoli

is still too hard,

but i want to eat it because

it’s the most beautiful color

 

i have a theory

that i sleep

better with you

but you just say

your air conditioner works

better than mine

and pull me closer

 

i tell you to watch your mouth

and you just think of

what you could’ve said wrong;

even at my most contagious,

you’re still hold-back

and gentle-grinning

 

i want to grab your voice

and wind it up

to play back and again,

but you parcel out

my affection

into tiny snap-closed squares

gladly swallowing

as the day requires,

 

but

 

it could be

that i’m not giving enough credit

to either one of us

because

i do believe in your assertion

that we are types

simply by thinking so

 

we must have in common

much more than we say

afterall,

our brains could make us

the same if we liked

(or so, you and i, we think)

 

yet,

we foil so nicely

shaping ourselves

to balance the scale

a rare,

comforting truth.

 

more than this

i think your mechanized head

and my jittery-jot mind

 

pull at one another

since

mostly

i love you because you like my toothpaste dribbles.