My Funny Galentine

 

She told me she loved me,

and it felt foreign,

frightening,

fundamental.

All at once,

and never at all,

I wanted to believe,

even if I was hidden under hatred,

a free gift with the magazines,

that found their way into my basket,

even though they hated my guts,

and my eyebrows,

and my cellulite,

and my.. well, you know,

everything.

The whispers of the world,

and the fiction of normality,

are nothing, when I’m in love.

I have the merry way she laughs,

her eyebrows, wild as her spirit,

sweet cellulite, and sweeter smiles,

and everything, yes, everything,

is mine to love, for the rest of my life.


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