Your hair is like unto a pretty realistic wig, nicely styled,
and your skin like the softly worn vinyl of a subway armrest, warmed by the heavy flesh of Tom
Your eyes like ping-pong balls painted to closely resemble pretty eyes.
You brighten my thoughts like dawn over the exit 170 Park and Ride on a nice day.
Missing you hurts like my funny bone against a marble countertop. Exactly like that.
I do it again and again because the pain reminds me of loving you… (Sonofa)…ok, Jesus, that’s enough now.
Fuck.
When you are away my longing piles up like dishes in the sink,
and my sadness spreads and deepens like socks on the living room floor
