how to spell love

it was sunday, and that meant gingerbread pigs, and heart shaped cookies with lavender or rosemary, or maybe both; i can't tell, i don't know, and i don't speak enough spanish to ask.  truth be told, it matters not. it was something in addition to sweet, just like real love.

we spell it l.o.v.e.

when we should spell it t.r.u.s.t.

and h.a.r.d.

and t.r.y.i.n.g.

and i.m.s.o.r.r.y.

and y.e.s.y.e.s.y.e.s.!

we spell it h.a.p.p.i.l.y.e.v.e.r.a.f.t.e.r.

when we should spell it

t.o.g.e.t.h.e.r.t.h.r.o.u.g.h.t.h.e.t.o.u.g.h.t.i.m.e.s.

we spell it f.o.r.r.i.c.h.e.r.f.o.r.p.o.o.r.e.r.

and then ask for pre-nups.

we spell it i.d.o.n.t.n.e.e.d.t.o.s.a.y.i.t.

but we do.

we slow dance close and argue far away,

whisper secrets and shout truths and lies.

we look away and across crowded rooms,

and talk without saying a word

we should spell it
l.i.s.t.e.n.i.n.g.
h.e.a.r.i.n.g.
l.a.u.g.h.i.n.g.
n.e.v.e.r.w.a.l.k.i.n.g.a.w.a.y.
or
w.a.l.k.i.n.g.a.w.a.y. and r.u.n.n.i.n.g.b.a.c.k.
we should spell it
k.i.s.s.i.n.g.
c.r.y.i.n.g.
c.r.a.z.y.m.a.k.i.n.g.w.o.n.d.e.r.f.u.l.
we should spell it f.e.a.r. and g.i.d.d.i.n.e.s.s.
and u.n.c.h.a.r.t.e.d.t.e.r.r.i.t.o.r.y.
we should spell it c.o.m.i.n.g.h.o.m.e.

we should spell it t.h.a.n.k.y.o.u.
and m.o.r.e. and  l.e.s.s.

this morning is monday and there is rain; yesterday's bright sunshine has been replaced with gray skies. i fell asleep last night to the sound of sleet against the night. like love, the weather changes daily, but the sky is still blue behind those clouds.  spring always comes.  i search for words to finish this spelling lesson, but they are just out of touch.  perfect, i think.  it feels unfinished.  real love is never done.

we hug goodbye and bring aspirins for aches
we forget birthdays but remember that time when . . .
we drive in silence and finish each other's thoughts
and we move in the same direction.

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