I care about you.
I think you are sexy and thoughtful.
I have had thoughts of little Spartakusses running around in the backyard.
Playing gaily in the rain and you standing in the kitchen window and watching them as you wash the dishes and fret about your kitchen.
Of long days coming from work and cooking dinner. Sitting on the counter top. And telling me stories about how your day was.
Cutting vegetables. And boiling stews. Kissing you. Being us.
I wanna say in a gruff voice “I don’t know honey. Why don’t you ask mummy?”
And “hey baby, maybe you shouldn’t be wearing my boxers all the time, coz then I won’t panic in the morning looking for a fresh pair. I think it’s kinda hard to show up to work in a suit with a thong underneath”
I want to look into your deep brown eyes and drown in all that brown sugar deliciousness that resides in there. To wallow. To melt. Become sublime.
Hold you in my arms. Take you when I want. Stolen kisses in the elevator. Long trips to see long lost “cousins”.
To be completely showered in your kisses and your longing distant look as you sit astride me.
To love you more everyday. To love you in 100 new ways every 100 new days.
Woman. Let me care about you.