You – who take me into the wilds of life and show me sunlight on a tree-hidden lake. You – who reads me tiny of your conflicted soul and shares me tears from your tender love. You – with your pillow swept hair and hard-earned freckles. I love you.
I drifted in near wakefulness while still nestled in your lingering warmth. And you came to me, curled up to me, and asked me. Such tingles traveled from my ear to my neck, where you kissed me and planted your wet eyes. It traveled to my muscles and rolled round my heart, electrified my back and legs and I had to stretch that morning stretch.
You – who bandage my fiscals and cover my scars, you water my passions and snip my anger, and you cook me sustenance and talk to me of spiritual things – the question was answered before it was asked.
Yes, Lavie. I will marry you.
Photo by böhringer friedrich (Own work) [CC-BY-SA-2.5 (http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/2.5)%5D, via Wikimedia Commons