Lyricizes

Love like bread

squashy-wonderful

uncomplicated

versatile

spiritually-modified

to never stale.

For all your talk of

strength and person,

You know that you would

unbuckle at your knees,

fall heart-first out of your mouth,

at just the thought of him no more.

At the intersection of

Fate and

Free Will,

we took  a turn

for the best.

He butters my bread on both sides.

Just when I believed
with all of me
that I could never,
ever, ever,
ever,
even
possibly,
in one
billion lifetimes,
or two,
or three,
love a
millimetre more,
he goes
and makes
the perfect
chicken and
mayonnaise
sandwich.

I was me before you.

I am me with you.

Just a tad more.

Our love comes down to bread, milk and bananas.
The staff of life,
The stuff of bones,
The stomach-cramping fruit, his favourite whole,
I can only eat them baked, cooked or blended.

Our love comes down to who picks up the socks,
And who leaves them on the floor.
Who switches on the lights
And who changes the lightbulbs.

We’ve scaled no mountains (well, maybe Kilimanjaro one day should our bones obey)
We’ve swum no seas (need lessons first, the both of us)
We fought not long nor hard for us.
He did not write a song for me.
He didn’t have to.