Three Little Words
In the kitchen of the house in Harrisvillle
parents dancing to a Bing Crosby love song.
That phrase we all want to hear: I love you.
At times our very reason for living.
I’ve heard it from many. Those parents,
my siblings, friends, extended family,
men who meant it and men who didn’t,
and from one every day for 44 years.
It concerns me no more. Say it or don’t,
for I have new words I desire, that hold
no hint of lies or heartbreak. Three little words.
Eight little letters. Come to me.