They can only ever hear it with their young ears.
And feel it with their expectant hearts.
As it should be.
“Of course” they casually say.
“But Really” I push.
I can’t help myself; it forces its way to the surface.
Sometimes it’s perfect, just right.
Other times, they’re irritated and brush it to the floor.
I watch them, wondering if they’ll ever know
How deep and endless they are.
How full to the top and stretched out of shape I am.
Placing the words more loosely,
letting it float gently between us.
Lets hold it together, share.
It’s for both of us.
So I will keep trying.
No matter what they do, and who they become.
Until my throat is dry and just a whisper crawls out.
“I love you.”