you don’t know that you’ve yearned and hungered
for that sweetest bite until
you’ve tasted it
then you can’t find it anywhere
on store shelves
in the wilderness
beside the mushrooms by the roots of the tallest trees
in your grandmother’s pantry
and I tasted you.
now I can’t look away
now I can’t eat another bite of any other tempting thing
nothing could be so sweet
as what we’d have.
I will admit I long for many, many things.
I long for flowers, even just a single rose
on my birthday, or Valentine’s, or
after I’ve sung and poured out my soul
or even for no good reason at all because the sky is blue
and our life is good
is that so crazy to wish for?
extra caramel creamer in my coffee in the mornings
and cheesy scrambled eggs in bed
and your kiss on my cheek while we watch our favorite TV show
on a lazy Saturday
I long for someone who appreciates the time I put
into buying him his favorite record for his birthday
or picking out the perfect tie
or waiting up for him even when I’m exhausted
every single night
or making all his favorite meals, even though
I hate tacos
someone who never gets tired of looking at me
and thinks I’m pretty with makeup and without
who doesn’t complain when I take hours to get dressed
or when I don’t have time to shower
a man who values me enough
to tell me the whole truth
and nothing less
who is wise and confident enough in himself
to share all of his heart.
I want a man who will play basketball
with our ten year old son
I’ll look out our kitchen window and see
our rickety hoop on our slanted driveway
he pushes past you and scores!
you laugh and you wrestle him to the ground
my two favorite boys
I long for that precious white house
with baby blue shutters that creak in the wind
a porch swing
a turret with a window seat where I could read would be nice
a firm wooden door and a yellow welcome mat
a kitchen that always smells of fresh bread and applesauce
I long for that.
there are duct-taped nerf swords on the basement floor
overflowing baskets of mismatched socks
crayon drawings in the corner of our daughter’s room
overgrown grass and and a sap-covered tree house
shiny wooden floors scuffed by our children’s shoes
a perfect, perfect mess.
in our living room there will be
a beat-up upright
whose keys hold more character than
any shiny grand could
when our kids go to bed we write love songs together
and your voice is the one I dreamed about
since I was a little girl
you sing and my soul is finally
when our first daughter is born
we’ll argue over her name because you wanted Chloe and
I wanted Claire
and we agree that we’ll just name the next one Claire
and she comes along and we do
both were placed in our arms
wrapped in pink blankets
but Chloe grew up to love green and the grass
and the swingset you built for her
and Claire loves the upright and sings while I play
and plunks out a melody, I know that someday
she’ll be great under blinding lights on shining stages
the dream I had once, and then faded away when I realized
all I wanted was you.
my heart aches and aches.
one taste and it wasn’t enough
night after night I dream and I wish and I shake
when I realize it will never, never be
at least not with you.
but I have this craving that can’t be satisfied
it’s a throbbing sensation like nothing I’ve ever known
all I want is a home and someone to love and
something to heal this open wound
because nothing else matters
and nothing else will until
somebody loves me too.