Tonight I had to ask,
just as I rushed to the edge
of the bathroom door
I wanted to watch you getting ready,
so I’d understand in a slightly better way
if those wings of yours
were in fact, real?
I must have danced
a thousand different thoughts
thinking how much I’ve been
loved in fact. And all of this
was started by an accident of yours
years ago by some coincedental contact.
I’m not exactly sure
how you got those wings to grow,
perfectly centered between shoulders,
so they can carry us.
I’m grateful for the support.
In a generous bear hug kind of way
we’re lifted up in the sky
I can feel your muscles working
you’re pushing too hard I think.
Out across the dangerous zones
I try not to worry anymore,
you’ll pick us up and carry us both,
to the safety of our couch
where we spend hours
looking for our next new thing.
You’re quite impressed
with my involvement
in the peaceful moments
that find us both,
moonlit or candlelight
it never really mattered why
we lay and strategize
our new soft landing spot.
In our next world
we’ve promised to meet up again.
This one being our 4th go around,
we still have so much to conquer yet,
and again, I turn with that subtle whisper
I’m dying to tell you
how much I’ll love you
all over again.