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
Wow, love this poem, Marita. Really beautiful.
ReplyDeleteThank you! Do come back soon.
DeleteMari,
ReplyDeleteWow
:D
DeleteThis comment has been removed by the author.
ReplyDeleteI like the way you've written this! :)
ReplyDeleteWe could follow each other maybe?
Love,
Krittika
xx
http://krittika-barua.blogspot.com
Thank you, Krittika :)
Deletelovingly written and so well written - classy.
ReplyDeletemy brother says always go for the guy in a sweater - often their personality will match.
Thanks Paige. :)
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