There aren't many ways to say
"I love you", that I know of, in this language--
FYI: Littered with acronyms,
and phrases flooded with sardonic sounds.
Oh, to be the light of the world's sweet heroine
to a highly (e)masculated culture.
These pervasive anthropological fallacies
construct themselves upon a screen,
and within each concrete fantasy,
I build a white beacon
for luring you back to me.
If only the bright high would keep you safe permanently
from the person I fight when you leave.
I wish three words were fifteen.
And “I love you” here
would fill your where with such meaning,
the terms would be all you could see;
Revised with the pounding and disarming intensity
of the stampede you’ve set off on soft prairie.
It's hard not to get stepped on
and trampled completely,
when you're kissing the ground at the sound of the buzzer.
It's hard not to get pushed into kissing around,
when you'd swear any other
would only seem half as rare;
in the foggy pond of unaware I wade through, to reach you,
there aren’t many ways to say
“I love you”, that I know of.
There aren’t many ways to live, to love you,