on particularly gruesome days,
the air tastes like tar,
and the sun stings 
like antiseptic. 
these are the days
that follow the days
I've been in love.

I fall in love with something 
everywhere I go,
scraping after it
until the chase is over
and all that lingers 
are the smells of cold chinese food
and latex.
The previous days are,
the way I tell it,
romantic,
but after a few sleepless nights
the spell is broken 
and I dizzily wander home
---clutching lampposts
at every corner.


I've got to stop doing this.
I should play cat-and-mouse
or---
coyly escape feverish first kisses
and duck embraces
at every turn.



But,
I can't.
I mix and mingle and
am prematurely in love
---for now.