There are moments.
Gently, I think of you and smile.
Let us rest in one another’s arms
Not hurry from the warmth.
Wrap our memories together
Live them each again
Rediscover what we have found
Be grateful for love.
I shrug…but not where she can see me.
When she can see me, I smile and offer opinions, which are worthless.
She knows not to pay attention to my opinions.
They are sincere enough, but they are based on well-practiced confusion about how things look.
When we go shopping I am drawn to things that move or tick or hum,
Things that work, whether or not they are useful.
They are good if they have parts that fit together,
Forming a functional completeness.
I am fascinated or at least appreciative.
Things that hang or blend together seem accidental like a pile of leaves.