do you remember when we first met?
hot vodka searing
and your hands slicing cabbage
seeing the dawn, drunk with love
weaving up t'hill and you laughing
reaching out your warm hands
that held me fast in church
where people had been binding hands
for hundreds of years
luna de miele
honey hands and late mornings
fresh peaches and red wine
hot springs at Saturnia
still you bring me coffee
hands coddling hot cups
coaxing us into the day's routine
we (mostly) shower together
i still kiss your palms
you still kiss my forehead
in the emergency room you text
my hand's okay, babe
i joke the relief: there's work to be done
i want to kiss you
like on that hillside
twenty years ago
This is in response to Blockchain poets prompt of the week, Deepest Romantic Desires. There ain't no way I'm writing a classy romancey lovey dovey love poem - unless it has zombies in it. But my man's sitting in hospital with blood poisoning this morning and I'm at work as we text back and forth. It started in his thumb and a red line is travelling up his arm. When I think of my romantic desires, I guess I think of them now as the more mundane expressions of love rather than the big expressions based on idealism. I don't idolise my husband nor feel the need for grand gestures after twenty years of being in love and loving each other deeply. The grand things about our love are more gentle and profoundly caring - the softness of sleepy morning hugs, the cuppa he brings me every morning, the chatting in the shower about our day to come, the making of his favourite dinner because he's had a bad day, the travel book I surpise him with for his birthday because I knew he wanted it, the sky blue bicycle he restores for me with the cute basket at the front. Even after all this time, all I desire is him. I don't need rose bouquets.
We did, however, have quite the meeting story, the details of which I won't bore you with. But I remember me pouring vodka and him making bangers and mash for dinner - and I do recall thinking how beautiful his hands were. I remember falling in love with each other at first sight, something that we still feel in awe over many years of marriage later. We got married within a year - something I swore I'd never do. And here we are, and he is more than enough.
With Love,
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