A chortle is
a slythy gleeblish burstle
of verbivore
snickerdazzle
daufter.

To chortle is
to gigglenuzzle bubbles
of snottish glimmerguts
that tickletwist speworling
belly happyspritz and
vorment fuzzlefizzes
out your nose.

Okay, I’ll admit it-
Maybe I don’t love you
Because when I saw how his gaucheness made you chortle-
How his mundanity carved your dimples,
I could feel every winged insect inside of me shrivel up and plunge into my deepest cavity.

I know love isn’t self seeking-
But is it so wrong to feel cheated when I once owned the patent to your smile?