3 a.m.
and wide awake with the stars i lie watching him
his breath rising and falling like gently undulating waves washing upon the summer sands
and his porcelain eyelids flutter behind his tender dreams
"do you love me?"
and he stirrs
his eyes exposing his dormant slumber
"do you love me?" i repeat
"with all of my soul," he says through grog
"and all of my heart" he says as he drifts
"but how much?" i press and press and press undeterred and unsatisfied by his run-of-the-mill response
and he cradles my cheek with his heavy hand with his hazy halcyon sepia eyes capturing me in stillness
"enough to know that you like two sugars in your tea and enough to make it for you in the morning when you're waking
and enough to know that hospitals frighten you because of that time with your grandfather when you were sixteen
enough to know that your favourite flowers are daisies and to make sure you have a sweater when we go out because you're always always always cold
enough to dance with you to your favourite song even though i hate my dancing face and enough to keep a pair of socks on me at all times for the moment you inevitably ask for them
and enough to let you cry into my favourite shirt after a really bad day."
he kisses my lips like the wings of a butterfly on a daisy
and falls back into his dreams
and at 3a.m. that night
i realised that love is all about the simple things
