God’s Favourite Piece

What does it feel like to fall in love with a poet?
It’s confusing, it’s being unsure of what is actually real and what is mere poetry
It’s being told about how your lips feel like God’s airbrush as he paints his favourite image – which is you by the way
It’s waking up to poems about how the contour of your body when you sleep is like the lines on the face of the moon
What does it feel like to fall in love with a poet?
It’s doubting every word they say, “maybe this too is a lie”
When they swear that the first day they locked eyes with you, their belly ruffled, not from a runny stomach, but from the number of butterflies that filled it up in an instant
How time stood still, but their heart couldn’t stop thumping with all the vigor and speed it could muster
Falling in love with a poet is beautiful, it’s ethereal
It’s letting the pheromones wash your brain and leave your mouth gaping for lack of words
I know this for a fact because that’s exactly how I feel everytime I look at you
Only, you’re not a poet, you’re the poem, God’s favourite piece.
What does it feel like to fall in love with a poet?

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