She climbed into her Corvette
the way some of us dare into love:
Face first and ass up.
I feel like we call it a whirlwind
when our hearts get swept up in the
tides of falling and gushing.
Lose yourself to the wave
and you’ll find breathing
is a bit overrated.
What if love was a bookshelf,
a knickknackatorium of all the trophies
you hoped your heart would win?
is wearing your cape
even when you feel you’re losing the battle.
There are days I’d trust fall on your sword
and I really mean that,
not even just as a dick joke.
They say you won’t find answers at the bottom of a bottle,
but sometimes there’s comfort
in dusting the rim for kissing prints.
Here’s a joke:
A man walks into a bar
and he doesn’t feel a thing.