From a Collegiate Lover
John Smilges

I gravitate to love*
like a bumble bee to daffodils,
lolling in sticky dust until I’m coated.

*Not the love that does
or fucks
or churns out hugs
but the one that unhinges its jaw,
rips apart its cheeks,
and shovels you past its epiglottis
because it knows you need to be encased
in sappy warmth.