By Megs
Date: 5 June 2000
To Him- Whoever He Is
When he realizes
Whoever he is
That here waits a woman
of thirty-two flavors
who feels all the colors in
the biggest box of crayons
who bleeds
and cries
in ink
and kisses in technicolor
but trusts in black and white
When the dark prince
on the white horse
sings me an old James Taylor song
before he rescues me from
the Heartbreak Hotel
(I doubt I am the tower type-
not a damsel in distress
just lonely)
I will come
only when the daisy petals
tell me that "He loves me"
I am superstitious like that
he will have to understand
that I pick up pennies
and wish on the first star
and when the clock hits 11:11
and I check my horoscope
which says
I need to be romanced
in the chivalrous way
the traditional way
the wildflowers on Groundhog Day way
I am sentimental like that
I suppose
I cry at old movies
and over the headlines in the newspaper
and even for no reason
other than I need to be loved
But I have to laugh too
often and lots
and he will need to be able to handle
a good dose of sarcasm
and late night cravings for a frosty from Wendy's
and playing on playgrounds
and skinny dipping
Which might be why I write this now
for him
whoever he is
to find me
and make me laugh
and give me
only good reasons to cry.
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