In Love

I'm a bubble boy,
and you, you like roses,
well they burst me
like shook sodas, see,
and spilling fizzily
I cough and belch
while you laugh and point
rather than help,
and I laugh, too,
because I know I'll end up
all over you.
I know that when you
come clean, I'll
be sure you'll be seen.
I'll be sure to build
a stage on a hill,
a theater in the round,
a round monolith seemingly
sprouting from the ground,
and I'll buy those roses
and prick my thick skin
and pop like soda
and spill my guts and
pressured contents
all over both of us.