old news...from the crypt

whatever the story, there's a more concise explanation than the exaggerate-tory one I'm sure I mentally embellished and used to convince myself of a sick and twisted, sabateur-rejection.
truth is, most often, i rejected me.
i didn't commit.
i played and didn't like.
i jumped, only to wince away in pain over a sprained ankle.

i'm tired of
waiting
wandering
second-guessing
glancing and thinking 'what if'
'maybe this time'
what have you
i'm ready for love
big
soft
sloppy
messy
love.

open.
disarming.
hard work.
building blocks.
deconstruction.
reconstruction.
gambled-upon...
i want to love
and be loved.
i want to be someone's
million dollar baby.
do you know, that in my whole life,
i've just wanted to be enough for someone
deserving
(and not 'too much/too intense/too deep')? for just, the wrong individual.
can't i be someones special
amazing earthy mama-lovin' caretaker chic with a brain and some braun and a heart of silver-gold?
won't the stars introduce me to a passionate
braniac
without overwhelmed arrogance
(or for that matter, pomp & circumstance).

who reads (at least; if not writes) poetry
and sees it streaming down my face sometimes,
when we watch the sun set
or rise.
or in the wind can dive off a bluff and turn the water a deeper shade
of indigo.
who believes in the balance
the ebb and flow
whom is passionate
and good to puppies and kiddos
who loves the mountains
oceans
water everywhere
who'll garden beside me
read to me when my eyes are tired

and doesn't mind my bouncy ball collection.

who might dig newspapers-in-bed
sundays
or hiking
cold or warm sweats
anyday
or ravenous partaking of fruit
after
a special kind of satiety...

and winter afternoons spent hibernating
only after skate-skiing or snow shoeing.
will i find the one
who gets me
who sees me
who adores every inch of me
who relishes in what this spirally mind might concoct next--whether word or
ingredient-filled-culinary wonder.
a pallet of spice and delight.

and who isn't scared by my love.
the way she spills out, all verbose, all over
the page
all over his shirt
lapel
and trousers.
sneaking out for whispers
in ears
and sometimes
a lyrical hum
dee
dum.