Preface: I was told that I am 98% of what she is looking for

My eyes
brown, but clear
not weak cream
that you see--
which is a lie,
your stinking lie--
I am not 2% milk.

2 is a number,
not worth much—
just an excuse for
some phantom reason
placed in front
of milk,
my expensive milk
changed through your eyes.

But I know
the reason
for wanting only
diluted cow juice:
cream is too rich,
weighs down the heart,
changes everything,
tearing the pattern apart.

Percent labels the
value of milk,
but doesn’t change
the white, intrinsic trait.
So whether the whole
or 2 is there,
milk is milk.

Your eyes
green, but sharp
subtract two
from my strong, healthy
100% moo milk,
which is your removal,
not mine.

So let milk sit
curd, rot
and after it turns,
let my eyes
cracked, and crusted over
look at you—
maybe then you will realize
I am not 2% milk.