Mojo

Okay,
here’s how it goes,
we are sitting at this pizza joint,
and at most it is 3 to 4 months into it all.
We are just sitting there and
talking about love and
our love for one another, and
how great the other one is, and
how we should get married
before we hate each other, and
she is saying she has never
felt this way before,
and I am saying I have never
felt this way before, and
there is a way she eats the salad,
discarding the pepperoncini,
that I could see a demise,
that she didn’t like blue cheese,
and that orange salad dressings
were distasteful, I could feel death coming.
I am sitting here trying
to convince myself that it was all over
from the start, that these pathologies
were already eating us up,
that we fulfilled some fucked up
psychological void that we each had…
but no it was love, it really was,
as sure as pepperroncinis don’t matter, nor
a distaste for blue cheese, it was love.
At least there was that, and
there’s nothing wrong with it, and
it was good.