the ugliest love is mine

[Steve]

Patch of hair, unruly as twisted twine,
That you hide with intent the indent
That you said was mine;

I would comb straight with
My crooked grin,
To change you from myth
To truth, to taste you between
My gapped tooth.

To savor the aging fruit
That ferments and intoxicates
More than any alcohol,
Await with baited breath
To fall to flora the nightly
Death blanketed in petals.

If there is pollen on my nose
I shall be the richest of men
Ever known.