I hate you truly, Truly I do.

Everything about me hates everything about you.
The wink of my eye hates you.
The way I lie on my bed hates you.
The sleepless journey on a Boeing 777-300 ER
All the way across the ocean hates you.
Each Hydrogen ion in my acidic stomach hates you.

Look out! Up! I hate you.

The “L” key on my keyboard I’m smashing
Downstairs in the  library hates you.
The sweetness of your chocolate cake hates you.
My voice in company with my guitar hates you. Don’t understand this line
The timid creature of my confidence hates you.
My hemoglobin hates you; along with my my family tree.

A cup of brown sugar water is both relief and an obvious
Symbol of how I hate you.

My tie and my white shirt: hate.
My gentle press on the “O” key: hate
My soothing “good night”: hate
You know how when I feel loved I smell
Your hair? Hate.
The “V” and the “E”: hate
The two strokes of hair above my eyes move with hate. I
Practice it.
The collar bones sitting on top of my
Beating heart hate you.
Finger bread in the cheese of hate, a tiramisu.
Hours after you fall asleep, a refreshing bliss of hate,
I analyze you inch by inch, so that I might hate every
Part of you and at times of thirst for love.
My heart, a mild entity, contracts with the utter validity
Of my hate, which never has enough of you,
Happily, like two lovers in the morning sunshine.