Because
Posted on in romance, whimsical
I ask myself the same question. No doubt, others wonder, too.
While you’re tall, it’s in a gangly, almost akward way.
You’re quiet–except when we’re alone. I think it’s because you know I am safe for you. At least that’s what I want to believe.
You do read. And I like that. You even read the books I give to you. I like that even more.You bring me coffee in the morning and think I’m cute, even desirable, with bedroom hair.
You like to surprise me with silly, inexpensive presents. Like the frog that measures rainfall. And the set of butterfly magnets. Of course, there’s the love notes and cards I find here and there.
You’re not afraid to cry with me, although sometimes I find it more contrived than honest. I guess you could be more introspective. But perhaps you’re working on that?
Sometimes we are passionate about the same movies. Other times not. Either way, they give us plenty to talk about.
You teach me things. And don’t think it unmanly to learn from me.
And you don’t try to get me to eat lobster or lamb.
I think that, as far as couples go, we are doing okay.
Don’t you?
September 25th, 2009 3:34 pm
“Of all the sad words
On land or sea
The saddest are these:
It could not be.”
—James Thurber
“Toe to toe
Dancing very close
Heavy brea-thing
Al-most co-MA-tose.”
—Blondie “Rapture”
Adrift and lightless, trackless paths lead
Spray of salt stinging the wounds that bled
Only a thin glimmer through a wisp of cloud
Through blistered lips I say Angela’s name aloud.
—andrew