I love you in the sunlit cracks between the crowded branches of the tree we like to dream under
I love you behind the front door that takes three knob jiggles to the left and a swift kick to the bottom hinge to open
I love you in the curses we send to the loose floorboard that trips us as we playfully chase each other down the hall
I love you in the dents of the couch cushions imprinted by our heads, hands, and hearts
I love you within the fibers of the canary yellow curtains smiling in our kitchen
I love you in every disorganized sock drawer, chipped tea cup, and mirror reflection that makes up the beautiful home we've built together
I love you and I am terrified
Swaddled in a paradise of white sheets and warm breaths, I know I will still love you
Standing on a pile of scorched curtains, splintered wood and charred rubble
Devastated by the destruction, I will fall helplessly into your comforting arms
In love and not at all worried by the smell of gasoline on your hands
YOU ARE READING
Tacenda
Poetrytacenda (n.) things better left unsaid; matters to be passed over in silence