HE BRUSHES MY HAIR AND I BEGIN TO CRY
because it’s like what you see in the movies:
magnetic couples solidified over time,
still in their prime of nurturing each other,
still needing one another,
still wanting to be there after the kids have gone,
still holding on for the rest of the ride.
In his simple act I am truly loved
more than any other physical affection,
more than the numerous “I love you’s.”
Odd as it may be but this is where I feel safe.
I don’t have to pretend to be something I’m not,
or hide behind anxiety about this tangled mess.
He sees me as I am and loves me anyway,
loves me still, loves me because of my
vulnerabilities. He wants to be all that I need
in these tender moments.
After all of the untangling I wipe the tears aside.
Seeing we both needed that intimacy we thank each other. He claims he wanted to brush my hair,
but I like to think it was more than that.
Coffee Shop Sessions 