A hungry post

My love,

I saw you the other night at the bar

You look happy and naïve

I don’t remember when you became a memory

I don’t know where you found the time to destroy your mirror truth

I was always too busy for all that staff

You look so ugly and not mine

You said you will always be mine

But I am against the idea of property

So I chose to hate you

Next time we will be 80 years old

I will be taller

And

You

You

You

You will have a name