Monday, 28 January 2013

Comfortable

You are not the fireworks sparkling in the movies
Or the shooting star that I saw at the beach that night
No, you are not the confetti that rained after the concert
Or the rush of a tequila shot with a wedge of lime

You are a slow cooked chicken pie on a rainy day
You are my grey sweatshirt when I am sick
You are soothing orange juice the morning after the party
You are the piano song floating in my bedroom

You are not much for sweeping me off my feet
Or big gestures or fancy declarations of love
Those things are fleeting, my dear
Instead, you are the most comfortable thing I've worn in years

9 comments:

  1. Wow, love this poem, Marita. Really beautiful.

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  3. I like the way you've written this! :)
    We could follow each other maybe?

    Love,
    Krittika

    xx

    http://krittika-barua.blogspot.com

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  4. lovingly written and so well written - classy.
    my brother says always go for the guy in a sweater - often their personality will match.

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