If you wrote me a letter of hate
I would frame it,
simply for its divine soliloquies,
and to see my name
written by your hand,
a brilliant mess of scribbles,
which I would imagine to be
your twisted endearment.
If you wrote me a letter of indifference
I would burn it in oil,
and bake it into a poisoned pie,
to be sent to your address
If you wrote me a letter of love,
I would write one back,
and after a while,
if we stopped writing,
and started speaking instead,
and made love every day,
and the ordinary jealousies
and domesticities won out,
we would grow bored
and never write again.

55 thoughts on “au naturale

  1. What praise can I possibly bestow that I haven’t already? Another masterpiece that tears the guts out and shows them to us, the readers. “Touch your fear, don’t be afraid…”

  2. I love how you always seem to say something surprising (ok maybe it is just surprising to me) and I come away from reading your poems with this intense jealousy (now why didnt I think of that kind of thing) and an unabashed desire to steal your ideas and run with them myself (thats meant to be a sincere form of flattery by the way LOL) Keep writing, I’ll keep reading!

  3. Until you met someone new that inspired you to write!

    We fall in love, we make love, we fight, we get bored, we break up, we move on, we meet someone, we do it all over again.

        1. I was actually trying to figure out how to add something to what you said. You were hitting nails all over the place.

          1. Hitting nails is my specialty, metaphorically speaking of course! Don’t ask me to hang a picture though. Please do proceed though with adding something!

              1. Awww, well next time I will try not to hit so many nails! *smirk* I thought maybe you were going to say something about finding “the one” that would break the cycle but Im guessing you’re too cynical for that!

                  1. Yeah I kind of intuited that much! Im on the fence really, Im cynical enough not to believe and romantic enough to still hold out hope!

                    1. I guess the problem lies in the fact that I like to idealize love to such a degree that the real thing would probably feel more like a cold shower, you just stay in long enough to do what you have to and then you get out as fast as possible.

                    2. I idealize it by having a completely unrealistic concept of what it should be like and I romanticize it to the point that nobody could ever live up to the standard I’ve set in my head about it. Well at least not yet anyway.

                    3. I think I do that, too. Or I did. And then I discovered…well, lots of things. No point in making ourselves miserable for something that doesn’t exist.

                    4. That’s very true and to an extent I’ve given up trying to define what it should be. I wouldn’t say I’m miserable though, picky and patient but not miserable!

                    5. Hahaha thanks! Sorry I’m so difficult, I typically use my laptop but when Im at work I have to use the trusty ol’ WP app. I always assume a blank message is some type of emoji but without knowing which one its hard to know how to respond.

  4. Eating a poisoned pie would be a great way to die. When did the future switch from being a promise to threat?… I love it. Nothing is superior to sporadic madness.

  5. Really liked this poem. I have to say that the poisoned pie is my favorite part of this too. Though, I like the idea of framing hate mail.

Love you, too

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