to be in love(to be married)

seven aches. i think i have a phantom

limb where my stomach is supposed

to be. let’s pull my kidneys out. put

the scissors in. take them out. so, so,

blood, i’m not sure it’s supposed to be

flowing so heartily.

(i do, i do, i do)

six. i leave dead roses on the pedestal

in front of my room. they crunch under

my feet when they fall, like they’re fresh

leaves. the dead can be as beautiful as

the living if you don’t look. don’t look,

don’t look.

five. let’s not pretend this isn’t an eulogy.

did you know people confuse eulogies with an

elegy? it’s almost funny. i do, i do, i do, i

do, i do. i do and maybe it’s a bit funny.

four. i think i know why you call it asinine -

i do, i do, i do, i think i know, but you’ll never

let me guess.

(four point seven five. i hate the smell of men,

and their perfume. i hate the look in their eyes,

just as i hate it when they speak.)

(i do, i do, i do)

three. i think i have a phantom limb where my

stomach is supposed to be and now there’s

blood leaking from my ears. and my eyes.

and my nose. i do, i do, i do, i do, and now

i’ve said it enough.

two. there’s a ring on my finger - i hate the smell

of men and their perfume. i hate the smell and

the feel of prickly hair on skin, i hate it, i hate

it, and i do, i do, i do.

one. i’m writing a poem. i’d like to believe

i could be a god with a pen in my hand.