wrong, wrong, wrong

you are wrong, so
utterly and inconveniently and
shamefully wrong--
i'm embarrassed for you,
blushing behind closed doors
to think how inconspicuously
wrong you are, the shadow
of the memory makes me wince:
so wrong! and now the shame
is painting chestful anger, you're
not just wrong, it's more, it's worse
than wrong: maybe you're evil,
arrogant insulting hellbound and rude,
i never saw these things in you
before, but now it's so clear! you're
absolutely awful. i can't stand
you or your thoughts, but don't
blame me for hating everything about
you: it's your fault because (clearly) you're
so wrong. your error overwhelms me,
doors between us notwithstanding,
i resent your presence.
and yet, yet--
had i known--but it's too late now
to see love in someone so wrong!
too late when you, you, you
you're me.




9/16/08