The Art of Love

The art of staying in love;

a radio that never sleeps.

Does not become a goodbye.

A slow dance with eyes foggy,

driving with your head out the window

to catch the wind in your hair.

Singing while we make breakfast,

the wrong words on purpose

then call in 'sick' to work.

Build us a treehouse

as the sun waves good morning.

Both of us in PJs & wet hair.

Along the top shelf,

I try to find the word for 'home'.

What bravery in that.