A love poem, unfinished

You tell me you love my thighs
(even though they smash
against each other when I walk

every step, they smoosh
and I don't mind because
I know you love them)

You tell me you love my ass
And you smack it affectionately
(at first I didn't like it

but now I do because I know
it's how you say "I see you"
and how you say  "hello")

You tell me that you're sorry;
You can't love like I do.
You won't lie about a feeling
You're not having inside you.

I'm happy that you're honest;
I'm glad you know me well.
I just wish you could see what
I find it hard to tell.

It's loving you that makes me happy
Giving that makes me glad
Offering time or chores or money
I'd give all that I had.

But I won't; we'd be miserable.
A one-way street for two
Dead ends in destruction.


Instead you just must understand
I love, I give, so let me live
As I am wont to do.

I'll temper my gifts with moderation
You'll respond with appreciation
And when you say "I can't say I love you"

I'll sigh, I'll laugh, I'll look the other way.
I'll wish we had this conversation on another day.

I don't need to hear "I love you."
I see it all the time.
From rose petals in hot tubs
To affection in iambic lines.

The feeling's not important
It's the actions that show
What feeling or art
Reside in your heart
By the affections bestowed

So honey baby
Don't worry your pretty little head
About a thing like that