Genuine Sheepskin

There are all different types of love.
Just like there are all different types of shoes.
Now shoes all serve the same purpose, ultimately, to cover.
And some love covers like a sandal, so freeing so open, so easy.
And some love, like your mother’s, is a Timberland boot.
Some love is like a 4 inch high red stiletto. Beautiful, passionate and short lived.
It has to come off after a few hours because, honey it looks good, but it hurts.
And my love, my love for you was always like a house shoe.
Yeah, it was fucked up and dirty.
Yeah it wasn’t strong or pretty enough to take outside because of all of the stains.
And flimsy soles.
But my love always felt so damn good.
And no one, only really close ones, with whom there were few,
were ever allowed to see it.
And it was furry and fuzzy and broken in.
It wasn’t for show, my love.
It was just yours.
There are just all different types.
Sometimes it changes, because you have to.
Sometimes it starts off as a pretty simple boring ballet flat that gets bedazzled.
Sometimes its a smelly old tennis shoe you simply outgrow.
But my love, hasn’t changed one bit, no matter how much I wanted it to be
The kind of shoe a man wears to a church when he marries the one…
Still,
It is there, under all of the Oxfords and Crocs and steel toed work boots you are forced to wear.
And still, you pull it out when you get sick, or when you are snowed in or
nothing else seems to fit your swollen feet.
I get mad sometimes that my love isn’t the kind you slip on
on a night out in the city when its loud and hot
the nights when your dance card is full…
But I have seen you throw so many of those shoes away over the years
And when your feet ache and you want some relief,
Our love, my love, familiar, comforting and old
makes you feel relaxed and wanted.
Sometimes it changes, because you have to.
Sometimes it starts off as a bargain basement knock off because it looks so damn fine in mirrors.
I get so mad.
But I’m right here, next to your bath shoes.
And as much as you love me you just don’t wear house shoes to a wedding.
I cover you.
Forever.
The one pair that you just can’t seem to throw away.
Thank you.