Patience Of A Saint

You would be

The kind of woman

That would be tired on her wedding night

And your groom would wait- days, weeks-

Salving like a tethered dog

Looking at bone without his reach.

You want to be loved 

intelligently

But not urgently

So that hearts won't bleed

When you decide to walk away. 

You want to be held

warmly

But not too tightly 

So that you can prise yourself off

When you decide to walk away.

Woman, 

I do not envy the man

Whose cross would be

The brunt of your love.