You look composed, you tell me. Thank you
I curled my eyelashes this morning.
Are you hungry?
let’s split a jalapeño-
for old time’s sake,
gloss it in virgin olive oil
for your sake,
I’ll glaze truths in honey
truth number one
this is not a poem about you
I have never written a poem about you
I will never write a poem about you
truth two, I am a better dancer
I’m white, you drunkenly explain,
pulling me into your spiraling pivot
truth three do not look do not speak
permit me to never again permit you
I love you, you say. Thank you
I know you did.