Your dark maroon lips linger after kisses like a 3:00 am
rerun of Full House. Dark gray woolen sweater sleeves always pulled past your
knuckles like a fingerless glove.
I hate how much I love you.
Your condescending voice makes my ears ring like a punk rock
concert. Gentle hints as to who is smarter while we argue drives me crazy.
I love how much I hate you.
When your name pops up on my phone for the seventh time
today just because you want to hear my voice. When you howl with laughter over
my harsh criticism and mocking dialogue of TV shows. I can’t help to smile.
God Damn it. I love you.
- John Oeters
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