“I don’t care what you say, I’m right,”
is what I said to my lover tonight
and then I thought, “I always say this to her.
Is this why she is my lover?”
And wondered why that was true.
I was subtle and circumspect with you.
You were my best friend.
But poetry and love are abusive to the end.
In love, the man is a monster, the woman, a witch,
because every piece of information is a sales pitch
and there’s no escape from this reality
except to be in love—and be a complete bitch.
I will have you underneath the moon.
Be there. And be there soon.