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We order a pizza with pineapple pepperoni banana peppers and olives please

screw it, we’re too young to not eat on the bed, the pizza is 

a monstrosity and tastes delicious. 

She tells me I don’t know how to brush my teeth, or floss, or not kill plants.

I argue that I’m great at growing plants as per the mold in my coffee pot,

and I haven’t seen the dentist in three years but have yet to get a cavity. 

I bite her flexed bicep with my white, gingivitis free teeth and she calls me sapphic. 

Freud would say I have an oral hyper fixation. Both are correct. 

She writes me poems over text and asks me to boil her slowly so

I write poems about how I never expected her lips to taste so good, 

and save them for later.

The time I pass is dazed wake up next to her my hand stroking her cheek,

I tell her about the life I’ve had and the one I wish I did. 

Open up the windows to let in the cold night air.

In the morning, we eat pizza for breakfast. It tastes like her.