Our valuable lenders are thrift stores, where I see you smile after the find of a tape recorder, and the free pack of screw drivers that is included. You show me an exhausted book of Ibsen’s plays knowing my excitement to its leather cover that curls and flakes. In your room you give me a tin that you rusted and waxed yourself and it protects your written words that give me warmth and growth. We then share a moral dispute on where to eat our “Valentine” meal and if using an Applebee’s gift card is appropriate or not. We ponder the overall distaste of the manufactured date (and I just love that we do). A little bit later our meals are vegetables in bread at a Jewish deli. And right before one in the morning, I sit next to you in wonder with my lips quiet, but content.
I know you will never mind my sweaty palms or my low to high tenor. We are creating a world we can believe in and waking in an honest love.
I know you will never mind my sweaty palms or my low to high tenor. We are creating a world we can believe in and waking in an honest love.
2 comments:
this was touching :)
"I know you will never mind my sweaty palms or my low to high tenor."
i liked that a lot. i dont know why.
This made me happy.
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