My love language is Leigh Chadwick

Leigh Chadwick

I stepped on a centipede this morning.
The cat threw up on the rug. It’s Sunday, 
so God is taking an afternoon nap. 
It’s Sunday, so I’m writing a poem 
where God is taking an afternoon nap. 
I’ve given up on finding out who stole 
the breeze. I don’t care, you’re still 
pretty. I had a good time practicing 
my French on the couch, too. 
I was born dreaming dumb, though 
I haven’t thought about dying 
in months. I haven’t thought 
about months in years. I miss wanting 
to kiss on an elevator. I miss 
shaking my fist at the first inch 
of snowfall. I miss the third thing 
in the list I miss. Have you really met 
the Midwest? Me neither, but I found 
a tornado in my coffee this morning. 
I found a piece of Minnesota nice 
in a cheese curd. God’s still napping. 
It’s still Sunday. There’s never enough 
water in my water. Still. I keep looking 
in the mirror, watching horns grow 
in the piercings of my hips. 

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Leigh Chadwick is the author of some books, most recently Sophomore Slump. Her poems have appeared in a lot of really cool journals. This poem is part of her new manuscript My Love Language Is Walking into a Supermarket and Not Getting Shot & Other Love Poems.