were finishing off a bottle of
scotch while listening to prince
you asked me why i was in
love with you
before i could say anything
you said don’t give me the
poet answer, tell me the truth
i laughed, took a drink and
said you were the most beautiful
woman that actually said hello
to me
she smiled and blew me a kiss
we finished off that bottle, had
some wild sex and i woke up
the next morning alone
i eventually found a scribbled
note that had a few drunken
lines on it
something like you were supposed
to say because i complete you and
you see forever in my eyes
i chuckled and wondered what
the fuck did she think the poet
was going to say
she finished the note off with
go to hell
i was hoping that was code
for something
it wasn’t
J.J. Campbell (1976 - ?) was raised by wolves and is currently trapped in suburbia. He's been widely published over the years, most recently at Record Magazine, Misfit Magazine, The Beatnik Cowboy, Mad Swirl and Synchronized Chaos. His latest chapbook, the taste of blood on christmas morning, was published by Analog Submission Press in July 2018. You can find him most days on his mildly entertaining blog, evil delights. (http://evildelights.blogspot.com)
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