scrubs my sinkful of dishes
presses his palms into my soles
confides and argues and laughs with me
kisses my face while we watch the lightning
pulls the covers over while we listen to rain
go for a walk
go to the farmer's market
and come back home
smile at him on the couch, reading.
make us a breakfast to be eaten slowly
How quickly my guard came down.
How right it all feels.
Saturday, April 12