One day a year we dedicate a rose or two
to those we love who pull us through.

We put words on candies,
take off scanty *******,
and let hot , whispered breaths carry
the glories of love.

I can't be "Us" cause I'm fresh out of you.

We aren't lovers, don't kiss under covers,
And I don't suspect that we will.

But I couldn't be me
if you didn't see
the sun in my soul
just begging to rise.  

What color rose stands for "Thank you for saving
me every day with your smile?"

Let's change the rules, who says that we can't?
The "Others" I know aren't that significant.

But you know my fears,
have seen me in tears,
have stood by me after all of these years.

I want you to know that I love you.

Love the wrinkle in your eye when you giggle.

                                            Love when we laugh about things no one else sees.

Love you despite all your perceived imperfections.

And should the world take me tomorrow,
I'd be filled with regret if
the love that I'd carried
became the love that they buried
rarely spoken, and never spent.

                                       This 14th, tell someone what they mean to you.

Never assume that someone else will.