just short of 3 years

do you remember
when we were driving home
from some bland restaurant
we chose to eat at
instead of spending the twenty minutes
to prepare a meal ourselves,
and you asked me
why i didn't write for you anymore?
admittedly, my heart shrank a little
for how could the love we share
ever find its equal
upon a crude page
of crushed pulp and ink.
men have built monuments
of ivory and gold
to showcase their love through
the bitter aging centuries.
wars have raged and countries demolished
for the love of a single woman.
i am a simple man
of flesh and rags.
no power to commission
grand gestures and massive cathedrals
still lacking that which cannot be named.
better to be struke dumb
and the tongue plucked from my mouth
so that i may never waste a single moment
fumbling with words and ideas
i can better sumarize
with one single kiss.