Show Me

He told me he likes me

I said I don’t have time 

to talk in similes

I don’t want descriptions 

of your feelings 

metaphorically 

Spare me the lip service 

I need Sunday service 

Acts of service 

Find the scriptures 

in my scarred skin

Search me deep 

within the melanin

Like synesthesia

let me feel 

what you say

I want the roses 

with no thorns 

a full bouquet

A hug 

where your 

fingers 

linger 

on the small of my back

For a little too long 

as if I won’t come back

How would you love me 

if I couldn’t hear you?

What would you say 

with what you do?

Show me.