Love is

love is
by kimberly e. ruth
I want to smoke tea leaves with you, baby
and play ping pong off the hood of our neighbor’s
Mercedes Benz. I’ll let you serve me
 
Love me.
 
I was reminded of you this morning when staring
out the window; It was Mary Joe siphoning gas from her car
She looked happy.
 
I thought if you would spit me out
 
I thought I’d like to be your vaccuum
I want to suck you
clean and keep you air-tight.
 
Upstairs you are a chemically induced yellow
and I like that.
 
If all the neighborhood kids are getting high off magic markers,
then maybe we should too.
They are our future; us—their owners.
 
You are my customer service representative
 
When your light for me turns blinking red, please pick up.
Do you remember our days pushing shopping carts around empty lots,
like empty carriages?
 
Remember when we used to lock them up with a lock and chain
like me to you, now,
like the windows of our brand new station wagon?
 
You are the newspaper that fills the back seat
You are a Louis Vuitton handbag on sale
A rifle butt to a child’s face
 
I want to show you off.
 
I’ll be your chain, baby, if you’ll be my tree.