Words are too sticky
they change whatever
is next to them and
take some of their
neighbors into
themselves.
They mean things.
They seem.
This stuff of language
is far too fragile to be
used for human
communication.
But anyway
I love you
so there.
No.
Not even there.
These four dumb letters have
soaked up far more juice than
their syntax should carry.
They squish and
waddle obscenely.
They sparkle, fawn, and
swell full to bursting but
I want none of that.
I just love you.
But I can’t call it love
without calling it love.
It kills me.