I’m dark, dreary and hopelessly cheery.

I hate you.

But, fuck, you’re handsome in those pants and in that shirt;

And well, I raise my glass to you and your love.

Because, well, there are trophies, and then there are rewards.

And then there are the simple high-fives.

And I high-five you, ahem, and your love.

Now, get the hell away from me (and my drink.)

/insanity of love and other poets