She Tastes Like Christmas Morning

everyone you meet will say
you should marry your best friend.
they will say it with their whole chest
and they will not stop meaning it until you say,
“she is also a woman.”

then they will laugh and say
you must have misunderstood them.
or they will scream and hiss about
how you’re going to hell,
you devils spawn,
for making a joke so vile.

when people say marry your best friend
they really mean
you should marry the first white boy,
of whom you drunkenly stumble into,
who is kind of funny and has no future;
but at least he doesn’t beat you in public.

they do not want you to marry the girl next door who smells like flowers and gives you butterflies.

they do not want you to marry the girl down the street who loves the same books as you and tastes like christmas morning.

they do not want you to marry the girl across town who encourages you to chase your dreams and finds joy in showing you the stars each night.
even when it’s overcast…

they do not care if you would die for her
but are silently praying that you do.

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