Offering

I offer you boredom every single day.
I offer you mornings without plans
afternoons without excitement.
I offer you dinner from the freezer,
silence during the movies we will watch
on the gray couch before we go to bed—
where I will offer you everything.
I promise you long stretches of time
that pass so slowly you’ll wonder what happened
to the passion you felt in the first few years.
I offer you a life that will leave you questioning
whether or not there is someone else out there
who could reignite your lust for conversation,
your lust for beauty—
(There is. Of course there is.)
I offer you my approval
which will become a silver tray, tarnished,
in need of polish.
I promise to polish your doubts, your ego—
and your abundance, which grows with pleasure
every time I touch you.
I promise to be your person, your other,
that half that makes you whole.
My hand will always seek yours.
Your body will be the home of my affection.
I will try to be patient, and fail.
But I will be reliable, trustworthy,
honest when honesty is called for.
I want to be the solid when you are in your fluid state,
your light when you have drifted away from the shore.
I offer you spontaneous adventures
curiosity in spades
I vow to correct your grammar
and play advocate to the devil inside you.
I’ll support your wildest and craziest unfulfilled dreams.
I will be a reservoir of laughs
and love—
conditional, of course, because to say otherwise is to lie—
and I promise you—I will never lie.

DeMaris
5-25-20

“Evening, McDonald Lake” Glacier National Park, by Ansel Adams