Tuesday, November 8, 2011

How It Ends

How It Ends
by Andrea Gibson

It has been 3 years
10 months
And 27 days
Since the first time I saw you naked
Since the night you ripped off your shirt
Stuck your boobs in my face and said
Touch them
I touched them like a diabetic third grader opening a Snickers bar
You said
I thought, Yes I am
But you are so soft
I said, Your lips, they’re like whale blubber
That wasn’t my best line
But it worked

Tonight in the grocery store I found one of your hairs in my underwear
I pulled it out in the frozen foods section and screamed
That is so gorgeous it could kill a man!
Good thing I’m a leprechaun

Baby, I have no idea how this will end
Maybe the equator will fall like a hula hoop from the Earth’s hips
And our mouths will freeze mid-kiss on our 80th anniversary
Or maybe tomorrow my absolute insanity
Combined with the absolute obstacle course of your communication skills
Will leave us like a love letter
In a landfill

But whatever
Whenever this ends I want you to know
That right now
I love you forever

I love you for the hardest mile we walked together
For the day I collected every sharp knife in the house
And threw them one-by-one on the roof
And told the sun
Listen, show-off!
From now on, you better only give me blades of grass
Things that are growing and soft
‘Cause there’s this girl who says she wants to float on her back
Through my bloodstream
And when she does
I want my rivers to reach the sea

Do you hear me, lover?
Do you know the night you told me about a crush on my ears?
I swore to never become Van Gogh
And look, baby
They’re both still there
Just like my firefly heart is still right there in your glass jar
I never trusted anybody more to poke enough holes in the lid

So in the nights you sleep like a ballerina
I try to snore like a piccolo
And I press my lips to your holy temples
And I say
I crash into things in the dark
Even when the lights are on
And I am wrong more often than I am writing
And even then I am often wrong

But when my friends are in the bathroom at the bar
Rolling dollar bills into telescopes and claiming they can see God
I will come to you
Holding my grandmother’s Bible
I will press it to your chest
And I will bless it with your breath
And when you ask if I want to role-play altar boys fucking in the church kitchen during Sunday mass
I will say, Hell yes
But only if you leave a hickey on my ass in the shape of Jesus’ palm
So I can be sure I got nailed

Lover, you will never lose me to the wind
You are the lightning that made me fill my chest with candles
You are the thunder clapping for the poem that nobody else wants to hear
You are an icicle’s tear
Water in a tulip on the first day of spring
You melt me alive
You kiss me deep as my roots will reach and I want nothing more
Than to be an eyelash fallen on your cheek
A thing collected by your fingers
And held like a wish
I promise whatever I do
I will always try my best
To come true

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