I keep thinking of showing up
on your doorstep,
feet planted firmly together,
some dainty skirt wafting
around my knees,
making a gift of myself
to you,
all wrapped up
and eyes as big as saucers,
filled with hope
and desperation.
Strange that I never imagine you
showing up for me,
wafting down to your own knees
like a penitent
because you know
I'd forgive you anything,
and regrettably,
I always will.
No,
It's always me
waiting there,
a smile plastered to my face
in a bludgeoned expression of
contingency,
a dampened but
never extinguished hope,
ready and willing,
ready and willing
to make you love me.
Please tell me what you think
Comments
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Nope
I Always Love You
