(Photo by author.)
SHINY RING: poem
Love, you would think,
is a simple concept
—but I, myself, can’t quite seem to find it.
The thing is
I want better than average, so I wait.
I want better than okay, good, or great even.
I want someone real, not one fake feeling.
I ask that she’s caring and humble.
I don’t want her to be consumed
with what other people think or do;
let them judge, let them hate,
let them all live freely as they choose.
I want to be appreciated by her.
I want to know that she notices.
You know those little things,
done with love in mind, that time seems to
in value so easily.
Goodnight texts can be golden, you know?
Doing dishes never gets old, and I just think
it’d be pretty cool to feel valued, just for
making those cold and flu medicine
when she gets sick.
I want to be loved, so I hope
she’s loving. Like some classic
hope she’s all in, no limits
to her love-giving abilities.
Even on angry nights,
I hope she finds the will to still love me.
I imagine her kisses can take me to the moon;
I want her lips to be all mine.
My own private spaceship
to fly me away
when this world gets rough.
I hope she craves my affection
like pregnant girls and pickles,
or hot fudge sundaes on hot Sundays.
I want someone with a spirit
young at heart, but mature in mind
— and excited for life.
She’ll be a bright light glowing,
her soul, beautiful, in a gloomy world.
And, I know what I want might be
just some naïve selfish dream, so
above all, I want to love her
the way she deserves to be loved.
Hold her so close so she’ll never forget
just how ocean trench deep
I’m drowning in love.
I want that shiny ring, where angels sing,
never give her up, real sprung type feeling.
I pray I’m everything she’s ever waited for.
I hope the love is so simple, it’s scary, but
when the time comes, I
P l u n g e
happily into the unknown,
that no matter what wicked things
may come this way,
with her life will be okay.
Lover Boy in Space