I pray for the days when you let yourself love me.
I kneel at my bedside and fold my hands
and I tell God I’ve never seen love like this,
never seen love with streaks of sunshine in his hair
and raindrops on his tongue. Never seen love
who speaks with the understated intelligence of a rainy day.
Never seen love who boasts about a stick shift,
but keeps all  his foreign languages on the backside of his teeth.
Never seen a love pull at the hem of my skirt with his eyes,
never seen a love see me. And I tell God I wish it was
like that all the time. And I tell God I wish this love didn’t
topple off its pedestal and into the rut of every love
I’ve ever known. love with walls and lines and rules.
love built on an epicenter. I’ve seen love fall mute.
I’ve seen it go blind. I’ve seen it fail at equally distributing it’s
weight on a bed of nails. I’ve seen the fatal pileup of lust and lies
and I’ve seen a love that cracks ribs and bruises cheeks. And
I’ve seen love look at me like plastic, look at me on a Lazy Susan.
I’ve seen love sit for everything I stand for. And  most days
that’s the kind of love I get, but there are days when it’s
the right kind of grey outside and the air smells kinda new
and then I get the good love, and all I’m asking for, God, is
if that love could stop being tape and start being glue.