i see you
curling up in bed
after a long day
of dealing with your grandma,
struggling to make
that new cheesecake recipe
you found online,
giggling to yourself
while looking at photos of raccoons
on your busted old laptop,
and my heart sings.
i love you
like the tire in the forest
loves the grass wrapping around it,
like the couch cushion
loves the weary body coming to rest,
like the gray concrete storefront
loves the graffiti rainbows and roses.
i dream
of cleaning the house with you
on a cool spring morning,
of driving to the car wash together
under the hot summer sun,
of raking leaves in our yard
in the chilly fall breeze,
of shoveling the driveway
surrounded by winter evergreens.
we don't have to be
kohinoor diamonds
blazing in the night sky
or foxglove blooms
reaching up to touch the clouds.
let's just sit together
on our porch,
listening to the birdsong
and watching each other's chests
slowly rise and fall.