Ouvrir le fair

you ask me if i love you
to fair and forbear...
you lovely twisted blonde hair
a veritable english heir.

your estate is luxurious,
your curves
bendacious, boldacious, crude.

i love you in so much as a poor fool like me
can love
knowing my feelings to be a form of flattery
as my face is flat
as an Abstract painting.

i love you as much as my purse
which is Japanese and empty
a zen explosion,
an extended tease
screwing the stars.

i love you as much as Asian silence
which is so overwhelmed, no words reach
which Jews mistake for religious hours,
i love you for your breasts which breath and weave and heave
like the ocean, rolling the waves to bed.

i cannot think why i love you
only that
not knowing
i zone out and wander.
Is love simply a sublimation of sexual desire
and do I only wish to fuck you?

I shame, i maim, i twist and turn and moan and start,
i love you for protecting me, my knightess
my kind princess
of blood unhued by common matters...
i love you cause i am ugly
and you are so friggin divine
a swine may cruise to shift its humor.

do not ask if i love you or why...
simply accept my apology
and deign to grace me with your lolalacious words.
ty.