I Like
I like the way you always remember that I like
my orange juice with pulp, my popcorn without butter,
and that I can’t stand squash –
fried, steamed or otherwise.
I like that you understand without asking why I
sometimes cry when I see men who are fathers
and fathers who are men, holding their little girls’
hands, and smiling.
I like that you listen with your heart, and eyes and
hands. I like that you don’t have all the answers,
and never pretend to.
I like that you’re flawed, and strong, and funny,
and kind, and smart.
I like that you love books and Etta James, and
think that the Road Runner is cool.
I like the comfort we share, and that you
say I make your heart beat faster.
Then add with a smile,
“But damn baby, what a way to go!”
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