I'm Looking for New Words

I just want to call you Baby.

Is there any other word 
to tell you how I feel?

Name. 
I say your name and it

brings to life a million gentle dreams.

Just to speak it aloud is a betrayal 
of my feelings, so I call you Sir.

The smile in your blue eyes

is a gleaming star in a galaxy,

the only one I see in a sky deep and blue.

Like the water where I swim,

I want to sink into your embrace,

Twine, entwine you with my love

As I search for new words to call you -

Sweetie. 
Honey. 
Name.
Sir.

But I'll always just want to call you Baby.

Luv fer Sale

Traffic at the shopping center Wednesday evening was backed up 

as though it were Christmas Eve. People were streaming from the party

store with balloon bouquets. Little children held the ribbons for 

Mylar balloons in one hand, while holding onto mom with

the other as they navigated traffic in the parking lot.

Since the New Year, stores have been stocking wares 

for the annual assault on the objects of our love with brightly colored

ribbons streaming from balloons, flowers, and chocolates. They've caught

our eyes as we walked through the produce department, building

our anticipation, adding beautifully arranged bouquets of

myriad flowers as Valentine's Day drew closer.

The whole flower department looked like a carnival 

of commercialized amore. Rows of stuffed animals leaned, 

appealing to the soft, paniced hearts of shoppers, 

the purple heart on the rear  of one fluffy pup 

symbolizing the affection of a wagging tail.

Step right up! Take a gamble! Don't pass by the chance

to win your sweetie's undying love ! Buy! Buy! Buy!

On one shelf, I saw clear plastic cartons, usually meant

for a dozen roses, that had been filled instead with

six cans of beer arranged on a bed of shell peanuts

and wrapped in a big red bow.

In the distance, I could hear a lone banjo

playing ... 

No Joy

Looking through the store window, 

the trunks of the bamboo trees look like bars.

The trees have been strung with lighted hearts

 and beyond there are masses of balloons

and bouquets. None of it for me.

Unless I buy it for myself.

Thoroughly jilted a few years back by a man 

I'd trusted with my life for over ten years, 

I am only now beginning to emerge from the haze 

of confusion and hurt he left behind.

I guess he thought I didn't need him. I didn't.

I wanted him and that's a big difference.

I paid my own rent, dreamed my own dreams

and didn't need another person to "fulfill" me.

What he did leave me with was a better

sense of myself, increased self-confidence

and an odd sort of courage; I am comfortable 

in my own skin, in a way I never was 

before I met him.

I suppose one might say, then, that I got 

the better end of the deal.