While falling asleep on my belly with my face in the pillow, your hand casually rests on the small of my back. Waking up before you, I sit at the table reading the paper as you quietly walk into the kitchen, boiling water for the French press.  I pick my head up and take in your morning smile. Saying nothing, you come to me with the coffee pot and refill my cup.

“Aren’t you going to have any?” I ask, searching your face,  gazing into your eyes.  “No,” you say. “I just made this for you.”


2 thoughts on “WHAT LOVE IS

  1. Pingback: You Hold Me Together. « Cribbings

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