3 am coffee call

Evenings of dinners
made by hands
that in early morning light
brush back my tangled hair,
just to gently kiss my forehead and cheek.

The same hands
with the ablitly
to be timid and sure
in the same breath,
when he pulls me in closer
to his world.

Hands
that lift me up
without my feet ever leaving the ground,
and calm me down
with the slight stir of a spoon
in a hot tea cup
as he remembers the two splenda.

His hands that write
love notes
on the back of old receipts
left on my windshield,
and set my entire body afire
with the interlacing of his
long, lovely fingers
in mine.

It's 3 am coffee call
and those hands begin another day
of showing me
the love
I always believed in,
even in my darkest hours...
had to exist.

It doesn't seem fair
to the rest of the world,
that we should love as this...

Thank God life is not fair.

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[Emily B]

a love the world will be jealous of . . . hold it close