The Urban Poetess

Those three little words,
Oft sprung back in reflex:
Spoken in mindlessness,
Whispered in sex.

They dance off the tongue,
A turret induced tick,
Lost in meaning,
A debate: semantic.

Yet when I speak them in truth,
I find loss of breath,
Our hearts intertwined,
Between life and death.

There’s a literal swell,
I feel in my chest.
These three little words,
I lay them to rest.

These three little words,
Are achingly true,
Cliched though they seem:
I love you.