Say You Love Me
Don't say you love me with a rose, your generic lines of poetry reading off like a gift card from the dollar store, your hurried scrambled lines of apology jotted down with a dying pen, Promises of going out for a treat later the next morning. Don't say you love me with a rose.
If you loved me you would know, that being greeted with my favorite flowers was a first, and the smell would be so sweet tears would spring into my garden eyes, you would know that five minutes of careful thought, written on a plain piece of paper would be cherished more than a dollar fifty seven card, and your changing actions and regret filled eyes would speak more words than your scribbled apology of meaningless words.
You would know I would rather be greeted in bed with a kiss good morning beautiful, and the ability to curl up warm against your body again, than risen from my sleep to get a seven dollar breakfast meal at a diner, coffee never sweet enough and a five dollar tip to our waitress, who can't seem to take her eyes off you.
You would know that the way you wash my hair and run your soaped hands over my body beneath the warm water would slip me into a heaven so heated I would not feel when the shower went cold, and that your gentle touch and the growl in your throat would distract me from all earthly things. You would know I'd much rather that, in our cramped little shower, than spend a day at the spa for a treat.
You would know, lying asleep in your lap, my legs dangling from the couch, the overbearing heat of the blanket tucking me in to peaceful dreams, and the ability to kiss your brow and brush your cheek when you were haunted by your dreams, would be much preferred to me sleeping alone on the couch, and you on the floor looking to make me comfortable.
You would know, by my eyes, that I looked at you, like you were all the light in the universe, and without you, I was just an empty abyss. And that you couldn't possibly look down on someone you loved like that. You would know that I deserved more than a generic rose, and store bought card, an apology and a broken heart.
Copyright © Jay Loveless | Year Posted 2016
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