I sleep in; you are gone when I wake,
but here in our kitchen,
in the egg in the pan
to be boiled,
the GF bread
already once-toasted,
Vivalto Lungo
in the Nespresso machine (eat your heart out, George),
I find you
It is this that keeps me
these minutiae of love,
all the comfort
I need

You must be logged in to post a comment.