PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

Don't treat me like I am the center of your world,
Then not want me to be its epicenter.
Don't call me in the evening to ask me how my day was,
Then not want me to be the one who makes your day.
Don't make passionate love to me for hours,
Then not want to send me flowers.

Not a single posy passed,
  From your hands to mine.
    From delivery man to table.
     From receptionist to desk.

The little envelope holding
   The treater- the caller- the lover's name-
      Joy, anticipaction
        In a single line of ink.

Not a single flower
I should have known.

Don't tell me what you want in life,
Then not want whats there before you.
Don't hold my hand every chance you get
Then not want to hold it tighter.
Don't tell me the look in your eyes wasn't need
Then not want to speak to me of love.

Not a single word was spoken
   From your lips to mine
     From written word to phone calls
       From conversations into the night

You never said that you wanted more
   Never said you wanted less
     Never let my hand go cold
       Never failed to watch me smile
      

Never a single flower

I guess I should have known.

A gentlemen always sends flowers.
I guess I really knew.

May, 2002