"I Want," I Thought Today


"to walk you through these
rooms. to let you see the life
i've been building for myself.

i want to show you the pictures
i've hung on my walls, show you
the music i bought last week, sit
with you and listen to the river
kissing the shore outside my back door."

"i want," i thought today,

"to watch your face as you see
that i have my little tv at the foot
of my bed with stacks of old movies
to keep me company on those nights
when i need someone in bed beside
me. when i need someone holding
my hand. i want to see what expression
your eyes take when you see that i
always have the dishes washed, the
floors swept, the chairs pushed up to
the white wooden dining room table."

"i want," i thought today,

"to see you smile when you see that
i bought lamps with flowers painted
on the glass shades and how the
shadow of the flowers are thrown
against the wall like a wedding
bouquet thrown by a happy bride,
and i want to hear you laugh when
i start to dance among the petals
in my nightgown, my arms thrown
up like some eager spinster to catch
the bouquet."

"i want," i thought today,

to feel you in these rooms when
you're not here."


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