I’m sorry my darling.
But my heart has that
wild imagination you know
He proposes this prophecy
of perfect days
In these strange assuming ways
He believes in loyal lips,
and of a tender tongue
speaking in a nurturing tone
of a happy home
keeping our clean bodies
and hot pots
In cool rooms
He places faith
in days of giggling children
and nights of whispered poetry
He entertains this naive notion
of Friendship revealing romance
with the stroking of music
and in the striking of art
He dreams of sex and safety
of earthy furniture
and a colorful carpet
He supposes simple things in simple words and simple times of simple love
Im sorry my darling
I don’t know where he gets
the delusional faith
in foolish dreams
and naive notions
to carelessly conconct
these fantastic fantasies
but my heart has the wild imagination
to believe that something
that’s always been as crushing
and complicated
as love
could ever be simple
For us