Poetry Feelings

twenty-eight

a tiny apartment for two, in a big
city full of lights and luck. we can share
things. pizza. a bed. cuddles. goodnight kisses.

i'll make you tea every evening and
serve you the newpaper every morning.

sunday mornings spent in bed are my
favorite, pancakes with extra syrup, coffee with extra cream.

you hate coffee. i need it.

rainy morning rushing to work, i'll give you a kiss on the cheek to keep with you through the day.

open your lunch box, baby, there's a
surprise inside. a note that's scribbled in bad handwriting, "i love you more."

friday nights in, old films and dusty records we pull out of boxes. we can dance around the moonlight to songs of our childhood.

long car rides, shoulder kisses and sweaty palms. waking up the neighbors downstairs.

i'll kick you out on the couch, just to wake you up in the middle of the night. come back to bed.

i'll read you my poems in a sleepy doze.

the little things, they're all i want. with you.

only with you.