Don’t do that. Every time you hold me – that is,
Both times you have – it’s been because of food.
You’re more apart than partner, for that much:
Dogs in the street afford me more affection…
But maybe, when you held my waist… what matters
Wasn’t the hold, but the holding. It was too good,
Just being there; your head-tilt; the warmth of such
Domestic grace: incident of perfection.
And this one, incidentally, was based on a “Cute” theme form August’s challenge. Self-indulgent, but only as most pursuits in the name of Cuteness are. I was tempted to write a silly ditty about an adorable field mouse called Bottom and his adventures, and to be honest I still might. But this will do for now. Love as ever to Blair. I adore you. Which is why I feed you.