If I started humming,
would you guess the tune?
Mindlessly airborne strumming,
until I look at you.

Would you dance in the kitchen
to a song almost twenty years old?
Would you join in my weirdness,
or is your love not yet that bold?

Will you know what I'm feeling
from the songs I play on repeat?
How will you respond
when I spiral, stuck on the couch in defeat?

Will you paint me a picture
on a canvas blank as can be?
Or will you say you're not an artist,
when it’s not quality I wanted to see?

Will you love me if I were a worm?
Or a bird? Or a fish? Or a plane?
Will you love me when I ask those questions
at 2 a.m. when you work the next day?

If I asked you to play mermaids,
mid-summer in a public pool,
would you splash around at ease with me,
or stay dry, thinking I’m a fool?

Will you hold my hand in the grocery store,
bringing it up against your lips?
Will you walk me through the aisles,
in small errand, delusional bliss?

Will you point out the cows while I’m driving?
Not yell when I hit the curb?
Could you be calm to my chaos-
soothing my ever-tangled nerves?