Whispers when you're sleeping,
swearing that you're not.
Giggles in between your sobs
when I joke to stunt your weeping.

Curling into comfort curves
behind you in the dark.
This ether can't be found in cards;
the gesture'd be absurd.

The way you say, "I love your smell,"
in a sigh I must believe.
The reason I demand to breathe
is written in your cells.

It's not for lack of love or time
that rend my handfuls empty;
I want not, bask in plenty.
But everyday with you is wholly mine--

--not Valentine's.

02/14/2008

Posted on 02/15/2008
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