If You Slit My Throat Some Night Poem by Uriah Hamilton

You despise a lady friend of mine,
You grow animal-like and wild in your eyes
If I speak her name;
If I suggest I might see her some day
For a harmless and friendly cup of coffee,
Your face turns red
Like you’re fuming or about to cry.

You’re definitely
The dangerously jealous type,
But sweetheart, that’s alright,
Your sex appeal is your violent tendency for rage
And drastic mood swings:
You might touch me more tenderly
Than the moment before a lovely orgasmic tremor,
Or you might chase me with a knife
While throwing a plate!

There is no restraining
Your exquisitely explosive passion.
Nothing is planned or contrived,
Everything is hungrily alive;
If you slit my throat some night,
I’ll still try to kiss you
Before I die.