It has not been the romance

It has not been the romance

The pushy teary passion

Of young eyes

That has kept me

Loving you

It has been the turn

And nod

Of your ever-changing


Your curious but hesitant eyes

Your reading list

The almost imperceptible

Pause before you speak

Your love of beautiful

foreign objects

Your habit of arriving

Early when I will be late

Your boyish happy and sad

Your way of telling me glass-hard truth

over a cup of warm cocoa

Your odd little tooth

Showing like a kitten’s fang

When you smile

Your constant motion toward gentle change and renewal

Your daily news

Your daily self.