By Just L
Date: 2014 Jan 29
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Because to celebrate the ordinary, with you, is divine

Have you noticed?
We have developed our own language of love…

You reach out your hand palm up, and I stop keyboarding and hold it;
At times only for a moment, but usually long enough to stop what I am doing altogether.

Watching you read I cannot help but run my hand over your cropped hair;
And you stretch and purr, never unhappy for the break in concentration.

Whenever you pass me in the hallway, at church, or at a party you always touch me.
And when I leave the house, I always want one last kiss… Just in case...

I look at you and you smile and stroke my face,
In that way I’ll know it is you (in case you are ever a ghost).

Riding on the motorcycle you wiggle your fingers as if you are playing a piano with one hand;
And, I know you have spotted my favorite roadside wildflowers and I won’t miss the moment.

There are other—extravagant or not at all—saved for intimate moments;
Each motion with their own emotional significance or meaningless messiness.

None of these small gestures need words,
Either before or after, or long after.

Small touches; almost unnoticeable things…
They just are and have become markers of us.

By Just L
January 29, 2014