Make love.

I want to say I love you because I'm pretty sure I do but every time I part these lips the words never make it through. I assume you know based on how I act. I mean I worship where you walk; I kiss the floorboards as they crack and I listen when you talk. But that's not enough if you call it love there are concessions to be made. No, it's not enough if you want to call it love then surely you just obey. I delayed. I stuttered, stammered upon every word and you got caught up in the syllables you heard. That's the point and we know that now; it just took so long to figure out that words are just air that fills our mouths and it don't mean much to push them out. Love is in your hands. Love is how it felt. Love is under your hands and how you make love melt. Make love weak in the knees. Make love for the birds. Make love for the bees. Make love with everyone you meet as you pass them on the street. Make love with your smile, make your smile wide and wet and allow everyone you see to enter into it. Hold them with your tongue or push them through your teeth. I mean it's your love now it only started here with me. Now make it flourish and now watch it grow; witness this love blossom and sway to and fro... so long as fro is to your window ; so long as fro is to your door where you'll find me knocking with more love than before; where you'll find me giving birth to a love so sure that it shivers in the cross hairs even though it burns. Now I want to say I love because I'm pretty sure I do, and I suppose I would but they're just words and they won't do.