progressing

The Curds of Love

It's in the laundry folded

and the dishes put away

in the arms I know are waiting

at the end of a long day

in your downy hair and skin

in your scratchy stubborn chin

and the way, when I begin to sing,

you always jump right in

it's your lips on mine each morning,

and your hands on me at night

it's in your gentle nature

but especially in your fight

in your freckles and red hair

and your lack of underwear

the scent of bike grease on your neck and ears

the way you fill a chair

from how you look in glasses

to how you've learned to cook tofu

There's something monumental

in the smallest things you do.

Some works in progress..