— Twentysomething Poets In Love —
You are not Sylvia Plath
and I am not Charles Bukowski.
Now please take your head out of the oven
so I can heat up this pizza
while you study for your biology final.
When I get home from my evening shift at Subway
I’d like to watch that Bergman film on Netflix
with my hand on your breast.
Then we’ll write disturbing eulogies for each other,
drink a pint of vodka and go to bed.





