There’s a modern apartment in Bastille,
hidden in an elevator-less building
up four flights of creaking stairs.
Under a duvet printed with the New York skyline,
you wrapped an arm around my waist, our legs entwined.
Ear pressed to your chest, I listened to your heart’s steady beat.
“We haven’t talked about us in awhile…
I just wanted to see how you were feeling and to know where you were at.”
Floodgates for words and tears swung open.
“If there’s anything you’re keeping from me, you know you can tell me.”
“Why – is there anything you wanted to say to me?”
“Nope – just asking you.”
There’s a retro apartment in the Highlands,
a cozy unit in a former hotel
up three flights of clanging stairs.
After scrambling to find lamb and a roasting pan,
I walked through the door, noticed you cooking in the kitchen.
Deftly dodging snippy remarks, you rubbed my shoulders and said,
“It’s just a regular night. You need to sit down and relax.”
Upon telling you about work, you were right.
It wasn’t a fine day.
(I appreciate how perceptive you are.)
“I also got some groceries – they’re in the fridge.”
“That was really sweet – thanks, mister.”
“It’s cool, no big deal.”
(Except the sum of all the little things is.)
There’s an office in West Midtown,
a corporate tower emblazoned
with the company’s red logo.
Coasting into the driveway, I parked the car curbside.
An unabashed grin stretched across your mouth.
Shyly, I squeezed your hand and asked,
Widening your eyes, you continued smiling.
(I love your silly moments as much as your serious side.)
Giggling, I leaned over and kissed you goodbye.
“Talk to you later.”
(I love your hello and goodbye kisses equally. But mostly –)
“See you tonight!”
(I love you.)