My Best Friend (3/31/2003)

i don't want to touch the air closest to you
in fear that it will become faint and disappear
like mist, or dew at the presence of the morning sun;
or that it would become contaminated
with the ugly passion that i possess,
that fear of rejection,
and the reluctance to impose.

i don't want to kiss you any longer
in fear that i will die
each day that i could bear no second
without another brief kiss;
or that day when that kiss becomes a scar.

i don't love you,
no more and no less;
i may even dislike you for everything that you are--
a pervert, an egotistical pig, an idiot--
whom i dread the second with, even when you held my hand.

i can't stand you,
but i know that i can't live without you:
a lover lost is another friend betrayed.