That it doesn't matter how many times
you mutter "I love you" distractedly, you're
still doing the dishes.

That crocodiles haven't changed much
since the time of the dinosaurs

That laying your head on the shoulders
of an androgynous poet does not make you
better than everyone else; it does not matter
if the poet is pale with dyed black hair and has
withered leaf hands.

That the way I break my neck when I sleep
disgusts you.

That if I tell enough jokes and make
enough threats, you'll smile and stop
scaring the caramel colored dog.

That my grandpa thinks people in
interracial relationships need to watch a lot
more Judge Judy.

That crocodile tears are not and never
were bullshit.

That she foams at the mouth when she's scared
and keeps her fingernails as weapons;
she keeps my mother's advice of
"pee on the rapist!" close at hand.

That our hair looks best unwashed.

That my uncle's best friends
who he says do not sodomize him in any way
are Jesus and the Green River Killer.

That me beating up the boxer who bruised
my cheek and has too dark eyes (they make him look dead)
stems from being a barren woman.

That crocodiles are ambush predators
and that the death roll is their trademark move;
I am an ambush predator and my thoughts
are trapped in a death roll.