February

It's almost Valentine's Day
have I ever told you, every year
it makes me want to puke?
the grotesque hearts pasted on every restaurant window
and the rotting roses black along the edge with their ugly thorns
clawing out every vase
I wish worms would eat them all. I do.

People walking around parade the girl or guy on their arm
each proclaiming in fanciful gestures
eat this: loneliness. Eat this.

It is not
that I don't believe in love
worth celebrating.

It is just
that if hearts could be won by
dying flowers cut at the waist
and chocolate hearts hollow in the center
then
I don't know what is what.

Only this.
Loneliness is a dark long corridor
and it is too deep and too black
for red tinsel hearts to shine through
It is a long walk down
a long walk
Narrow--like the infinite gap between bodies in heat.

Now walk in a single file
to the silence that burns like anger in the depth of your being
and turn to smile at the boy next to you
kiss his hand
and tell him you love him.