for a boy who is too free

If you loved me, I think we'd be okay.

You would come home from work to find me making spaghetti for the fourth time that week.

But you wouldn't mind.

You'd say "honey, I love your spaghetti" even though I don't always cook the noodles right.

You would say words that I don't agree with but I wouldn't care because those words would be followed by "I'm sorry sweetheart, I love you" and a jaw clenching kiss.

You would teach me how to smoke a joint just so I could if I ever needed to.

You would read to me poetry in our bedroom, while I sit on the floor and you use the bed for a stage.

You would take me to poetry slams so that you could read to me in the right settings.

You would grow your hair out long, because you know I like to play with it.

You would take me bowling at midnight just because.

You'd tell me exactly what to order if I ever went into a bar, because you thought you would drive me to drink.

You'd get dressed up to go to Sunday dinners at my parents house even though the t shirt and jeans you were wearing before looked finer than any suit ever could.

You'd take me to church and hold my hand the whole time, even though you feel like you don't belong.

You would step out of the room every time I knelt down to pray because you knew I would pray for you.

You'd drive me up to the mountains on warm summer nights when the air is dry to show me all of your favorite constellations.

You'd paint pictures of the universe all over our house.

You'd never play that old piano that sits in our front room because it reminds you of your mother.

You'd ask me to read to you out loud while you paint because you couldn't choose between the two.

You'd tell me "I think this could be it, I'm not lying" even thought neither of us were sure you weren't.

You'd get mad at me sometimes for asking you to please listen to me, even though you heard every word.

Instead of telling me to stop talking too much you would interrupt me with a kiss that would leave my lungs empty of air and I would forget about anything I was saying earlier.

You'd fight with me over everything but it would be okay because after you would hug me and say "I'm sorry, I love you" in between more world shattering kisses.
You'd hate how much I pray.

You never liked how tight that suit fit around your shoulders.

You hated leaving me alone in our room to pray, because you would worry about me going to sleep without you.

If you loved me, we could last a long time.

But you have a hard time committing to the commuter lane

So how could I expect you to commit to me?

I wouldn't.