vows

i am done with confessing.
turn me into a really smooth rock.
i want to be plucked from
the side of a parking lot. i want to keep
all my little frayed edges inside.
to have my keeper marvel at how 
soft i can be despite my species. 
years ago when i was still a romantic
i used to write vows for you. i vow
to always hold the sun like a basketball.
i vow to carry your coffee to the moon
if you need it. i vow to be the one
who pushed the car when there is
no more dinosaurs to burn. how to i explain
that it is not that i love you less but that
i am less good at vows these days.
the only one i crave is a silence that might
let us meld into the walls of the house.
i think i would rest as the stink bug light.
you, as the carpeted staircase. i want 
to keep us safe by which i mean i need
a house inside the house. some people
take vows of silence for a whole year.
i wonder if that could free me?
would the words in my head change shapes?
turn into stones too? then, how would i
start talking again? i think maybe 
after all that tongueless
i could get back to what i was. i could vow 
to use the can opener on the day. to shake
your shoes out on the porch
& keep you safe from spiders. to lay 
in your pocket, a stone eager for your thumb. 
i find confessionals
in every room i enter. i burn them
just to watch them grow back. door
& partition. the priest
in me & the priest in you. a house of stones.
i can start by making a promise. i will sink 
in any body of water i am dropped.