oldie/goodie

you love like I do,
silently, across tables,
in presence. you love
in deed and service; you confer
i love yous in the rustle of a passed napkin,
in the billow of a crisp fitted sheet, in the silence
of the way you're always attuned.

you love, and it lives in your eyes. and I, against
all expectation and quite surprisingly, flourish
under your gaze, grow warm and womanly and solid, and, in
whatever way you love, to what degree, I am,
every day,
brought peace
in how I see you knowing me.