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I Don’t Write You Love Poems Anymore

February 8, 2014

I like salt

When we met
the sky lit on fire
with the sparks of a million past lives
a million future stars
and a future for our hearts
that we didn’t know was coming
we just pointed up at the sky
the beat in our hearts strumming and we marvelled at what was happening above
had no idea that love
was lurking behind those flames
that fate
was just waiting for the smoke to clear
waiting for the flames to finish burning up what was previously here
Once all that was left was the remnants of a life burned
once all that was left were those things that are meaningful and must be earned
Once all that was left was debris that needed strong hands to clear
ash that needed to be swept up
one heart waiting for another to show no fear
walls to drop, no longer needing to be kept up
Once all that was left was the work of daily kindness
the myth of love and all it’s blindness
the truth of maintenance
the truth of ‘day to day’
the truth.
Your green eyes
fast forward
the grind.
a choice
every day.
a choice
I’m daily glad to make.
a faith
that you cannot break.
Between the morning alarm clocks, the dirty socks, the daily job, the long hours, the hot showers, the breakfast on the run, the quick kiss before you hit the door, the afternoon phone call where we say the same thing that we did the day before – “Hey just calling to say Hi”
The drive.
The diapers, the car seats, the dog is out of dog treats, the packing diaper bags, the Hashtag #parentswag.
the exhausted dinners trying to think of something fun for a 3 year old to do while feeding the baby and what is on that on the dog? Glue?
glazed look, stirring the pot, I look over, you still look hot.
I bet my face doesn’t say it though cause the baby’s crying and
….well, you know,
bedtime is just around the corner, we are out of formula and bread, and one of us needs to tuck our babies into bed.
Cinderella meets her prince again every night during bedtime stories before we turn out the light
and I think about when I was cinderella writing my prince love poems in my bedroom late at night, wondering if you were the one, imagining a day when our lives might intertwine, my single days done.
I look at the life we have built and I watch that love we started with
multiply all around us.
Like waves that want to drown us,
Like steel ties that want to bound us
Our oldest kisses her brother, the baby kisses the dog.
And I don’t have time to write you love poems late at night in my bedroom anymore.

2013 - November 044


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