It's Christmas morning. I sit on the livingroom floor next to you. We are surrounded with gifts. Gifts we bought for each other, gifts bought for us, or stuff we had bought for the house. I look over to my left and grab the stocking I had set there for you. "Open it!" I giggle and give it to you happily.
You begin to go through the stocking, pulling out crumpled christmas paper. The floor is covered in snowmen and elves that are crumpled torn and tattered. You laugh as you try to unbury the box that has been burrowing beneath all of the paper. Finally you pull out a small white box. It fits in the palm of your hand perfectly. As I watch you eagerly, you take off the tape that is on each side of the box. You peel the tape off tenderly, as a mother would a band-aid.
When you open the box I smile. Your eyes are greeted by a picture, a picture on a wooden box. You smile happily, as you take this wooden box out of the white box. You open the wooden box and see more pictures, and a new box. You look at me confused but still smiling. "There's another box?" You laugh. I lean over you, and take the third box apart revealing another picture of us. Its a box full of memories, full of me and you. The two best things on this planet.
Later we open gifts and more gifts, listening to christmas movies in the background as we tear. After our gift extravaganza, it brings us to the kitchen.
I pull the plastic bowl from the cupboard, humming Christmas songs that annoy everyone other than myself and grab a big spoon. You grab the flour, eggs, butter, and other ingredients. I set the counter up organized so we have an easier space to work with and you measure out the flour. You move your arm to put the first cup of flour into the bowl and dump it in. You go to do your second, but when you try to get the measuring cup over the counter, you instead bump into me spilling flour all over my new pajamas. I giggle and dust it off, flour gets on my hands and the floor. I look down at my hands and they're white with powder. I put the flour hand in your hair and get your hair all dirty. You laugh annoyed and put your cup back into the bag of flour. You put your index finger and your thumb into the measuring cup and flick more flour at me. I shake my head and laugh.
We move to the next step. You crack the eggs into the bowl and you poke them with the blue rubber mixing tool. You mix and fold as you smile faintly. Your smile is pretty, I admire you and the butterflies flutter inside me.
When the cookies are done, we lie on the bed with our milk and cookies. I put on the nightmare before Christmas, and I feel your hands wrap around me. The room is dark, and my blankets are soft. The room is just about the perfect temperature as the movie begins to play loudly. You cuddle me a bit closer and I cling to you closer. "This is Halloween" begins to play as my worries melt away. Everything I could ever want, I had. Cuddling me close. I smile softly as I dip my cookie in some milk.
YOU ARE READING
Love Letters To You
PuisiThis is a book of poems, a book of sayings, a book of short stories, a book of appreciation for the one who means the most to me. If you have someone that you love, I recommend that you read it.
