Springtime, the only pretty ring time

“Here is my hand, my heart, my throat, my wrist. Here are the illuminated cities at the center of me, and here is the center of me, which is a lake, which is a well that we can drink from, but I can’t go through with it. I just don’t want to die anymore.” — Richard Siken

If I speak too soon at this it could be over. But I want to say it, shout it, anything it. So here it will remain. Here it will be captured -- the reawakening of us. My timeless, ageless love for you -- oh, God, it has never ceased! Like I told you, it just lies dormant and it's brought to life by your voice, your breath, your ability to capture me with your love.
I watched Law and Order Thursday night.
I listened to Green Day and had Spaghettio's on Friday.
You predicted it all.
How do you know me? Do you just know me? Am I easy to you? I want to know these things because the answers will provide honesty, and I assume too much when we speak in metaphor.
I want to love you until your hair turns grey.
I have loved you fiercely these many, many years.
Will you make time if I make time? All we've had is time, but it has continuously been off.
Love me and I will love you. Be ready.

"and there's nothing to get hung about"