| ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| >> Static Item >> Poetry >> Emotional >> ID #1197364 |
| |||||||||||||
|
For Scott.
Love exists in his doing the dishes and singing to himself while he does, smiling at me when I pass him. It is in the way he laughs when I imitate our son doing something funny and when he kisses my hand every single night as we drift off to sleep. It is in his eyes, sparkling when he tells me a story and in his arms when I return home from somewhere. It's in the memories of our years together, all the times he looked at me in awe and I felt whole. It's when he's across the room from me, engrossed in his work and I in my surfing that I can feel the love, like the warmth that flows from the vents in winter. It is everywhere around me ever since I first stood on his doorstep. Now I know what love is, and it exists here. Jenna
© Copyright 2007 Gugibufugi (UN: gugibufugi at Writing.Com).
All rights reserved.
Gugibufugi has granted Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates non-exclusive rights to display this work. |