if you don't love me, pretend
she likes to write in riddles
"- seems more intellectual that way -"
to type in riddles - maybe
the more apt
description,
because she rarely writes
in paper and in pen now
"Do you have any idea how many times I press CTRL-Z?"
like the riddle of those
Greek worlds
that she mulls in the bright
moonlight; a furrow on
her brow, a flick of her tongue
while he sits beside
her and pounds
on what she disdainfully calls
[wrinkled nose] "Hmf, cheap lager."
but he'll have his revenge; all he has
to do is motion at
a waiter
and order something; tonight, it's
a Dirty Black Russian
"I know, I know, vodka, cola... vodka, cola... I hate you."
and I hate you sounds so sweet'
when said from
her lips because she never
says I love
you, never says it at all
"Love isn't a riddle."
he smiles
and tells her that the words
she is looking for are
'coffee liqueur'
