| *loolaville _poetry | |||||
| Slurred I Love Yous I'm repeatedly shouting slurred I love yous over a cell phone and the lady in the stall comes out with her eyebrows raised. I love yous to erase our pouting stances earlier stood. I love yous to take the edge off as much as the alcohol does. I'm fixated by my eyeball pressed up against the mirror and additional newfound wonders; my moist lips moving with words, the line of my upper teeth in a charming smile, my chin just there - but nicely there. An epiphany occurs as I love myself in this mirror and see the me you chose to love this way. I hear you love me through my ears and I consider shouting Marry me! because I'm tanked, and that seems the most logical phrase to explain loving you and loving myself so oddly. |
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