Not quite a poem

I first noticed the “thin line between love and hate”
That all nerds allude to
When you called me tender.

Tenderness is what our grandparents felt at the altar
And what ninjas know nothing of.

It’s dogs barking
And you altering your jeans,
meticulously. I didn’t think you could sew.

Tenderness is “This page cannot be found”
And me floundering to end your sentences
When I am fully aware that “The Newlywed Game” went off the air years ago.

It has so much less to do with me
But then, I’m writing this,
And you’re probably just glossing over it.

Rose petals are cousins of razor blades
And step-parents can mime affection without prompt.

It’s dogs barking
And you pouring over greeting cards
Until you find a phrase that meets your standards…

Or what you expect your standards to be.

So, you steal a line from Top 40 radio and I swoon
Because a line lifted is a line felt.

But ninjas wouldn’t even pause for this cold pot of coffee.
Ninjas don’t like coffee at all.