That One Thing
That One Thing
There’s
that one thing I love about you:
The way you smile when you see me after a week away,
That sly, almost shy glance away,
That, “Hurry up and get in the car,”
At the middle-lane airport loading zone.
There’s
that one thing I love about you:
The way, instead of simply kissing me in the morning,
You turn your back to me, prone,
And say, “Scratch,” and let me feel
You from shoulder blade to back-small.
There’s
that one thing I love about you:
The way you give me updates on the cats’ antics,
How Luna’s been sweet-lounging,
How Gus has been fat-snacking,
How they’ve been sunning outside.
There’s
that one thing I love about you:
The way you obsess about the food I eat and don’t,
Mostly out of fun and teasing,
But with the unspoken concern about
My health and that “borderline” BPR.
There’s
that one thing I love about you:
The way your eyes sparkle in the twilight,
The way your lips purse when I kiss them,
The way your body arcs when I hug it,
Making room for other touches.
The way your feet don’t stink,
The way your hair greys at your temples,
The way you wear the same five shirts
That I’ve noted you look
so good in.
The way you fold my laundry,
The way your butt fills every pair of shorts,
The way you never throw anything away
Just
in case I’ll look for it someday.
There’s
that one thing I love about you:
The way you let me write love poems about us,
And don’t mind that I share too much,
And don’t mind when they don’t rhyme,
And love me back with quiet approval.
There’s
that one thing I love about you:
The way you love me and the way you let me
Love you: without affected fanfare,
Without annoying pretense,
Simply acknowledging and accepting.
There’s
that one thing I love about you:
Everything.
Very Nice
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