love's a funny thing:
ever notice how everything you notice can cause your sweet lover to guffaw sweetly, from you and for you, dollface, the more mundane the better,
especially dot.com bank-marketing billboards, especially when riding on the bus together, which becomes your own little world, picking up snatches of conversation by the couple seated behind you, near painful in its hilarious banality (people talk this way?!) and you crazy star-crossed lovers can't help yourselves, you can't, you have no choice but to start repeating every sentence verbatim in tone and nuance with tears in your eyes, sputtering-
what are we having for supper tonight?
over and over with mounting hysteria, the couple behind you looking more disturbed and upset by the minute, but you can't stop, you just cannot fuckin stop and now you're adding to each line,
what are we having for supper after we pick up the mail and beat the kids tonight,
and the best part is how
what are we having for supper tonight is now your secret love-code, your bond, anytime, any place, one of you says what's for supper tonight the two of you get a rare taste of that non-fucking-type rolling on the floor, best medicine laughin in ecstacy.
is it me or is that true love?
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