i love your tacos

it’s true, i have an appreciation of the dark and humorous, especially when it comes to love. i can’t help myself, there’s just too much reality in all of it … how human we all are, how we sweat and breathe on one another. how even flowers appear naked… how we’ve all been there with our pants around our ankles feeling vulnerable swallowing up whatever bits of love we can find. (not literally, well, except for maybe that one time.)

i laughed when i read this poem, and knew i wanted to remember how silly life can be sometimes, how raw and truthful in the best laughable way. and how we are all very much the same when it comes right down to it.

love is fickle. no one is immune. and i love that.

“Forms of Love”
by Kim Addonizio

I love you but I’m married.
I love you but I wish you had more hair.
I love you more.
I love you more like a friend.
I love your friends more than you.
I love how when we go into a mall and classical muzak is playing,
you can always name the composer.

I love you, but one or both of us is/are fictional.
I love you but “I” am an unstable signifier.
I love you saying, “I understand the semiotics of that” when I said, “I
had a little personal business to take care of.”

I love you as long as you love me back.
I love you in spite of the restraining order.
I love you from the coma you put me in.
I love you more than I’ve ever loved anyone,
except for this one guy.

I love you when you’re not getting drunk and stupid.
I love how you get me.
I love your pain, it’s so competitive.
I love how emotionally unavailable you are.
I love you like I’m a strange backyard and you’re running from the
cops, looking for a place to stash your gun.

I love your hair.
I love you but I’m just not that into you.
I love you secretly.
I love how you make me feel like I’m a monastery in the desert.
I love how you defined grace as the little turn the blood in the
syringe takes when you’re shooting heroin, after you pull back
the plunger slightly to make sure you hit the vein.

I love your mother, she’s the opposite of mine.
I love you and feel a powerful spiritual connection to you,
even though we’ve never met.

I love your tacos!
I love your stick deodorant!
I love it when you tie me up with ropes using the knots you
learned in Boy Scouts, and when you do the stoned Dennis
Hopper rap from Apocalypse Now!

I love your extravagant double takes!
I love your mother, even though I’m nearly her age!
I love everything about you except your hair.
If it weren’t for that I know I could really, really love you.