Saying I Love You

Think of all the straight paths
that raindrops take
that are deflected by tree leaves
and the leaves of other small plants and bushes.

I say this to illustrate
that there is no direct route
to where what one loftily says
is absorbed by another who is grounded.

I remember you were as severe
as granite rock cleaved into two
by tectonic forces beyond my imagining
along the fault line of my sins.

Which is worse. Stuffing words in your ears?
Or stuffing words in your mouth?
Or the entwining of spirits that takes place
no matter how casual the sex?

If it was in my power I would have your image
stamped on the coins of the land.
Real money. Not some commemorative minting
sold on infomercials at odd hours.

That is I find the absence of your body
adjacent to mine for a few hours a day distracting.
And I and fond of observing how you extract joy
from studying fledgling thrashers on the cholla.

I think. I think we should try conversation
to see if it leads to knowing what shelf
the milk is stored on in the refrigerator
and who claims the Eggo waffle when the toaster pops.

copyright © 2021 Kenneth P. Gurney

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