Deal maker, deal breaker.
Glowing in the dark
is a deal maker.
I could handle it if he howled
like a wolf when he opened his mouth to laugh.
Screaming in the shower is another maker,
mostly since it’s not a breaker.
Since it’s a hypothetical situation,
I suppose I could love a man
who squats only and refuses chairs,
or grows facial hair in quarter inch strips
Carrying eggs in his front pockets
is a maker.
These are all endearing quirks
and between loving it and leaving it,
with the man of dreams,
I would stay.
He can’t ever kiss me, okay.
He loves country music, okay.
The one that makes the game seem
like it’s not fun anymore
is hard to say with any dignified sense of humor even.
He is better than me at everything,
that’s the breaker.
Even if he were gracious and humble
and pained by it,
his being better than me,