Unraveling

On our first date,
when your face scored target on my eyes,
you told me
it was the best date you’d ever had
because we fell asleep
on each other
on the couch
and didn’t wake until daylight.

That was two years ago,
and now you have
porcupine daggers in your eyes
when you look my way.
Our eyes touch in my sleep,
alone on your old couch,
and I can’t curl into
a tight enough ball
to get away from you.

On our second date,
you told me
it was the best date you’d ever had
because you got to kiss me
sloppy beer kisses in the parking lot
in front of your place.

If I could kiss you now
my teeth would be my weapon
against your porcupine daggers
and I would bite your bottom lip
until it bled like I’ve bled
and you would know not to say
things
you don’t mean.

This poem was written in the late 90s.