Love Poem: Don'T Then

Don'T Then

Don't, then.
If you don't love me the stars will no longer be flickering fairy dust 
just dots of light that I can't comprehend. 
If you don't love me the ocean will not play it's violin sing-song for me. 
Just the tide sigh as she follows the endless whims of the moon.
If you don't love me the city won't be cradling me in kind looks and baskets woven from the crisscrossing of streets, the city will burn me with it's cold dirt floor and endless vacant eyes.
If you don't love me the song on the radio won't be winking at us as it croons our story, just a song on the radio for some other lovers. If you don't love me, I'll just turn the dial. 
If you don't love me my fingers will still tap, words will still spill, the paper will burst but the content just vague ghosts of conversations we used to have, prepositions and verbs.
If you don't love me wine will not paint faint blush on my cheeks, make me clever and coy, twirl my hair round it's stem. She'll be wicked and horrid as she whispers the truth to my heart. That you don't love me. 
If you don't love me my feet will keep up their silly game of one before the other. If you don't love me my heart will keep instructing the band inside how to move, to beat, to flow. 
If you don't love me my eyes will blink from the dust of the road that you left on.
If you don't love me I will  wake up with you on my mind,
If you don't love me I will still wake.
If you don't love me I will. 
If you don't love me there will be no more reading poetry to a firefly audience, if you don't love me the sounds of the crickets won't whisper, "kiss her. kiss her". 
If you don't love me and the hollow of my shoulders, 
and the yellow light of my eyes, sway of my walk, and the cut of my jeans and the hue of my hair and my skin against yours. 
If you don't love my eyes that flirt and my sleeping tossing form, if you don't love me, then don't. 
If you don't love me. Don't, then. 

Sahn 3/24/14