I love you
I want to be with you
he said
but I can’t ever call you beautiful
I’ll say lovely
and that’s better
She nodded uncertainly
wondering what that meant
Years later
she reminded him of his words.
I was an ass,
he said.
But he still could not
bring himself
to say the word.
She held out
her insecurities
cupped in her hands
and asked him
for reassurance,
but he just looked down
his nose at her
silent
.
He had no
kind word
to give,
no kind heart.
.
And so she stood
face upturned in
silent misery
and held tight to
the gift
of isolation.
I see you
in the distance
across a roomful of heads,
tall and silent
watching them with a
pleasant blankness-
a smile that turns your mouth
but doesn’t light your eyes.
You stand above
conversation,
listening without interest,
putting in the time
required for politeness.
My eyes call to you
and you turn,
one eyebrow raises a greeting
and your lips rise with it,
I see the flash of gladness,
as you incline your head
and step toward my love.
You are illuminated cranberry glass
the glow of a molten sunset
the iridescence of hummingbird wings
You are the dance of kite strings
the song of a mockingbird
the quintessence of possibility
You are all I long to be
the dreams of a millennium
the hope of eternity
You are innocence in a cradle
the wisdom of the elders
the infinity of the finite.
You are bubbles of laughter
the effervescence of everything
the reason.
I love you high
I love you low
I love you near
I love you far
I love you shallow
I love you deep
I love you awake
I love you asleep
I love you now
I love you then
I love you forever
and ever
Amen.
When I loved you
I gathered hope
into a basket.
I saved your smile,
your voice
your messages,
your kiss,
your letters,
your music,
all wrapped in
mingled memories.
I saved you,
an artefact of artifice.
On rainy days
you tumbled onto
the table of
my mind,
a shining
collection of what
was never real,
a perfect impression
of impossibility,
from a basket
of wasted dreams.
I wish upon you
like a star.
I find you–
a hot rock cooling
in the field, enveloped in
tendrils of mist.
I turn and tumble
you in my mind
Transform you into
a perfect talisman,
hold you in my pocket
roll you in my palm-
a star to wish upon
for stars are only
burning rocks,
and we are all
stardust.
I hang you
in the heavens
to glow.
I wish upon
the wonder
that is you.
.
I make you.
Word by word
I write you.
Stroke by stroke
I paint you.
View by view
I see you.
What I say
is what you are
So
I make you kind
I make you good
I make you loving
and so
you are.
.
.
This explores a similar concept to Patricia McGerr’s “Eight Cow Wife.” How you treat your spouse will reflect back on you. If you complain all the time, you’re going to be focusing on the negative until that’s all you can see. So don’t. Your focus creates your reality. Live the relationship you want to have.
Following the model by Sarah Kay- Love letter between a toothbrush and a bicycle tire–
Here is a love poem between a light bulb and a paper fan, by me
.
.
With a flick of your curves,
you turn me on.
With the rhythm of that modest arc
flowing
to and fro
to and fro
to and fro
I glow with passion
hot
and round.
I long for you to
wrap your
accordion folds
around me.
Fanny,
you make me want
to channel my heat
to bake a cake
to celebrate
your slender curve,
your snapping
flapping
virve.
.
Oh bulby,
you light up my life.
Against you, I’m a
transparent frame.
I wish
I could really
open myself to you,
but bulb,
I must cool your incandescent ardor
because
if I get too close
I will burn.
You will leave me
scorched
and smoking.
Oh yes.
I can see right through you.
You’re not on fire;
our love is a
filament of your imagination.
I’ll wave a fond farewell
but be assured bulby,
you’ll leave an
after image.
You stand silently apart
You hover on the edges
distinct
observant
I mingle like sugar in water
wondering
wishing
longing
to draw you
into my arms
to hold you
to anchor you.
But you don’t know where
those hands have been.
You seek a quiet place
to find a peaceful oasis
for the discomfort of that skin
for the ramble of those thoughts
for the torture of that crowd
I stand apart
and watch you pull yourself
in pieces
I’m laughing and chatting
and wishing I could be enough
to give you courage
strength
faith in yourself,
but I’m not.
No matter how much
my heart is full to bursting
with wanting it.
You have to be
enough
alone.
Shawn L. Bird 