that you love me

why not just hold the season,
what could be the reason,
for letting it all go to seed,
far more than we need,
not so much an affirming action,
as just a done deed;

hold me close, baby:
I think I might be fading,
not just the bright parts, baby,
but the shading;

I still seek, even though now weak,
the colors of your longing,
the way that they laugh, and speak,
at the sound of your calling;

I am loose now, baby,
ready to set sail,
and maybe,
to set the first nail,
to let the hammers wail,
to let the finished product
tell the tale:

and still, I repose the faith in you,
that what you tell me,
is always true;

and so I wait 21 more days,
to see all of the ways,
that you love me.

August 5, 2009, for the Wifey.

Copyright © 2009, Ricky A. Pursley. All rights reserved.

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