I say 'i love you' too much too little and in the 
wrong ways.

Sometimes I feel like I'm saying
'i love you' more like a plea
or a prayer than a declaration--
like a petition on a paper
airplane to God to let you remain 
with me long enough
to understand that you are
worth telling lies to.
You are worth pretending
that dandy lions are flowers
-- and never have i told
someone 'i love you' and regretted
it. See I say it too much
because the things I mean
you can only find in between the
light hum of the 'o'
when we say 'love' dove-tailed
to the end of making pancakes 
without plates or smiling
at you like you know my
name is Sarah and I'm the wife
of a prophet but
you can call me princess of
prayer books in breast pockets.
i say 'love', dropped above me like
a crema drip of clouds
to veil Mars like the bride
he never wanted to be--
i love you like white glove
mothers on Sunday-- like 
doves at weddings and doves
at funerals and doves made
of white chocolate.
i can't apologize for there
only being one word to explain
how I feel about every single
person i ever met-- no 
it doesn't mean i think your perfect--
yes i say it too much--
no i wouldn't change you
to change you would mean i didn't
really love you-- and maybe
i can't love you like kisses
or a pancakes-- but i know
i can love you like a prophet's
wife. Eat the doves for 
breakfast with me and i'll 
be a dandy lion and lie
for you and lie about being 
something worth planting
on a windowsill.
I say 'i love you'
like a plea-- grow it
in the pots on the porch and hope
no one notices that it's 
always white wishes 
like dove downy.