Strawberry Lover

From candy cardboard boxes
Someplace, Arizona came this scent--
this strawberry-ooze-sweet
washing out my cigarettes.
Beneath the grit of the postman's

hands

I imagine your kisses taste that way.
You become the puff pink
wrapping, the click tick snap of
packing paper tissues around
bargain bin DVDs.
These were all my favorites but I

wanted

to be unwrapping you here instead.
Why do you send me incense and chocolate
cards, substition hearts in shades
of gradeschool valentine pink?
It's hard to be lovers when all I can love are

strawberries.