One hundred thousand love notes to you

You.
the only kind of woman that can
make me
scream,
burn in the frigid rain,
feel lost under my own weight and shoulders,
heavy head.
heavy hands.
heavy heart.

I'd write one hundred thousand love notes to you
If I thought you'd read them

Maybe keep them under your bed
or in your dresser
one in your purse
one for your pocket
I might even sign -- ever so carefully
with hands striving for such steadiness,
such eloquence that they'd quiver, at last, back into
the erratic jumble of nerve and bone
leaving just a scribbled
but heartfelt
"with love," or,
"yours"

It has been said that
many a good man has been put under the bridge by a woman
and the rest of us not so good men
have been thrown into the cold,
and the iron grips and roars of freight trains
by a woman

But I'd still write one hundred thousand love notes to you
if I thought you'd read them