Too Long Dead

I wouldn't know
what love is
if it knocked on
my back door...
dressed as an angel
or the devil;

I'd still say:
"come on in...
What can I do
You for?"

in my rain ,
it would look
disheveled..

It might say:
I've come for you:
but I would shake
my head

-"there's no way
that can be
true...."
I 've been too long
dead!