I Hate Doors

She stands by the door, She, my beautiful wife, stands there with love, waiting for the word, waiting to open- the house as she did her heart. She has such a big heart- Loving me- even as she moves her hands towards the door. Yet, she ponders on letting me into the house. It's just a wish, in reality, she's not my wife. I've been requesting, to the thought of us, she would slowly open- Or give-in. She is my love. What won't I do for love? She has stolen my heart. I wonder why she is taking so long to open the door? Oh my wife, beautiful wife Trust me, love me, and let me into your house. She has a lovely house. She built it as she does everything - with love. Oh, she must be my wife. Slowly it may be, but surely, I will have her heart. I love her from outside- behind the door. Oh, my wife please open, open- to me. When will she trust me - when will she love me - when will she open- Her house- open her door so as to love? When would her heart See that- Yes, I am her husband and she is my wife? Aww, just the thought of her being my wife, and I'm taken to a world afar, wild and open. In this world I have her heart! We are alone in this world, and it is our house. Day by day, we live in love. It's a lovely world: this world has no doors. I hate that door. I love my wife. In this world with no closed doors and no door to open. I hate doors. A door blocks my entrance into her house - into her heart. Copyright 2009 Leslie Alexis