April is National Poetry Writing Month, and today’s task called for me to write a love poem without using the word “love” or employing any of the phrases associated with love poems.
His butt looks kind of perfect
Wrapped in that turquoise
Towel.
I mean it’s not a work of
Art or anything, but it’s the
Part of him I watch when
He leaves our bed to
Shower.
His eyes could be a deeper
Shade of green,
I suppose,
Though I doubt they could
Twinkle any more than they
Already do.
He never brings me
Breakfast in bed, and
Seldom sends me
Flowers.
I should probably
Divorce him over those
Lapses, but he cries at
Sappy movies, and
Would probably
Cry if I left.
I know I would if the
Situation were
Reversed.
Praying for Eyebrowz 