Poem : Affection

Mar 16, 2016

He is a joy.
My own personally tailored dose.
He is uncontainable, wreckless, messy.
But he stand firmly, with sureness and authority.
Yet he would smile playfully and agitatingly affectionate,
Here I am mesmerized and stunned.

In the morning he'll have coffee,
Black with sugar.
Bitter with hint of sweet.
His spectacles seem to never leave his sight
and he will refuse anywhere but near me.
He like his morning so.
We didn't talk.
Only appreciative calmness.
Small gestures.

Like a peck on my cheek while i take my heavenly first coffee sip.
Tucking his chin on my shoulder while showing todays news on his sleek black metallic smartphone.

On rainy days he'll make me wear sweater,
Stroking my feet justifying the need for sock,
And we'll watch tv,
Never romantic ones cause well, we never really did.
Maybe some actions ones
Contented with the rain, under the shade of a homey home.

That we both build.

-for an unknown reason, feeling poem-ing now. It's horrible but well.

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