Okay, I needed a quick post for I, and this is an older poem I found. It's not magnificent, mind ya, but it will work. Plus, it's a grey, rainy day today... Oh, and I think this is my take on a love poem!
no matter how powerful and torrential,
never washes away the insecticide,
the mist you spray when you cry or walk by.
It drapes on leaves, the ground, the sky, my skin.
Its rancid odor causes me grief,
that a sigh is no more a sigh
than a man is but the man he builds.
The insecticide envelopes,
folds me in threes times the number
you multiply to make my skin black.
I make you whole
and yet, you kill me.
You disease me and not even the rain
can wash away our beautiful mistakes.