Love is...

asking for the music i didn’t really lose
and taking the long walk, the long talk
you didn’t really expect;
rusty lawn chairs on a cloudy night, watching the stars
that aren’t really there—
but that wasn’t the point anyways;
the kiss that didn’t quite meet my lips
but i didn’t mind… the credits were rolling
and so we tried again;
the way you tried to express your thoughts
with that Beatles song
and i couldn’t help but be charmed;
always having something new to say,
to find about each other.

it all starts shakyromantic like
now its

soaking wet hair and a dry, oversized sweatshirt
as you smile because
we finally got to do that scene from ‘The Notebook’;
sitting silently on a couch
contemplating the patterns of a tabby cats back;
not bothering to put on make-up
before i show up at your house and
hearing you say that i look particularly beautiful;
making burnt smores over a dying fire
and contemplating chemistry and aliens
in the bitter cold;
quibbling over little things like
who yawned first or
who won that tickle fight or
who chased who.

little things I never
expected
have made
all the difference