i am a professor from the university of stupidity

if ever two were one, then surely we. 

they call it sacrifice—            imagine me a tiny poppy

afraid of my clumsy body,

that impossible weight

the not quite love

but i stayed silent because you were smiling.

and because i'm never happy

you were a collection

of any shape against a window,

of the intentions

i only half believed at the time

say: i am a professor from the university of stupidity.

i think from this distance

the goldfish of my genius hates you.

[Alison C. Rollins, from 'Cento for Not Quite Love' in Library of Small Catastrophes]