Hands and Knees

Loving you is like submitting myself to humility while on my hands and knees
Your love is like a see-saw plunging me in and out of the depths and pit of your horrid game
You solicit love like a classified ad
soliciting your love like religious tracts...hand to hand...door to door
While I am still on my hands and knees
cleaning up what you've spilled and what you bitch over
Though I have aches and pains...notwithstanding my hurt
My eyes cry
My eyes produce pure, clean, unadulterated tears
None like the acid filled, high pressured, self righteous,
sea salt filled substance that runs down your cheeks
I am on my hands and knees
pleading with love to let me go from you
Our episodes were dry and cancelled long ago
Low ratings and suppressed anticipation for the production
of lust do not touch, tantalize, and tease the channels of my desire
Picture me on my hands and knees disconnecting my umbilical cable cord from you
Imagine me hoping to be nourished by another
That gives birth to sessions of love that create
a picture show of colors and expressions that
neither Michael Angelo or Picasso could ever imagine
I am rising from my hands and knees
releasing tension from your heart's puppet strings
Knowing that your emotional arthritis stifles love
in every form and fashion
ever fathomed

I Love You But, God Love's You More!