I love you.

I call this a prose poem. 
I also call it an apology.
I love you.
Okay, now say it with more feeling.
I love you?
Better, but with more passion this time.
I love you?
Close, but it’s missing something. Say my name.
I love you, Caitlyn.
Say it slower though, like you mean it.
I loooovvee yooo—
Not that slow!
I…love…you…Caitlyn.
Better, but it’s still not right. Hmm. Call me something else—call me “babe.”
I love you, Babe.
Try “baby.”
I love you, Baby.
Maybe it’s what you’re wearing. Can you put something else on?
[In a hat.] I love you.
Now you look ridiculous. Say it to me over dinner tonight.
[Over dinner tonight.] I love you.
What if you were holding a ring?
[Holding a ring.] I love you.
God, that’s still not right. Someone get this guy a baby!
[With a child.] I love you.
Hmm. Take me on vacation; tell me then.
[Clinking glasses.] I love you.
Now say it while you kiss me!

Mm mmuvf mooph.

Are you trying at all?
I LOVE YOU!
You don’t have to shout it! Geez.
. . .  
You don’t love me at all, do you?
Bitch.

January 5, 2011

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