I Want To Keep Making Bad Poetry About This Love

love is something. look at you- so beautiful, so weird and tall and in love with me. there is something heart-breaking about the way i have come to love you. as if in a necessary re-modelling, my heart has been broken most delightfully and has expanded to fit the brilliance that is you. your smile is a statement piece i long to see more frequently than Sundays. whenever you say my name, it means something different than what I could ever expect. who knew, that coming from your lips, my name could carry such excitement in its three short syllables? who knew that it could translate to delight? to sheer joy? to wonder?

you look at me and on your face is day breaking. your eyes house a thousand little hopes all coming together in faith that this love will be worth writing a collection of possibly cringey poetry about. with bad metaphors and unplanned enjambments. with clichés about the sun and moon and water. with too few lines talking about too big emotions. well, when i look at you as you do that silly dance you always do because you know i am watching, for a second there our eyes meet like we’re Harry and Sally, like we are all the rom-com love interests merging into one. and oh! the love, the tenderness, the mischief there is! see, I want to keep making bad poetry about this love. if this is the only way to be a prophet of it, then the punctuation can be skewed and the language can be mediocre but I want to keep writing about the way you make “my heart melt” like it is ice cream and you are a sunny day. how being with you gives me “butterflies in my tummy” like I am a garden of pollinating flowers. how “I can never get enough of you” like you are a spring time of never-ending sweetness. on the days this love will be like walking in too tight shoes, remember that your smile alone awakens the poet in me. and that after what could be a long day of walking in those too tight shoes, reading this poem, this memento of the joy that we are together could be the salve for whatever may be blistering. I love you.