It’s
the kind of love
Where
you don’t walk out on me
Just
because I sit in the corner
Late
at night
Wearing
bunny ears
Writing
poetry
Flatulating
loudly
And
giggling
Uncontrollably
Because
I know
When
to hold back
When
to be quite
When
you are nearly ready
To
start throwing things
Sharp heavy things
In
my general direction
Because
I never
Want
to give you
Any
reason
To
stop the little things
Like
this morning
When
time was short
And
you knew
I had to shower
I had to eat
So
you brought me a plate of waffles
To
gobble down
While
standing in the shower
Waiting
for the water to warm
A
moment of unique singularity
Unfettered
by preconceptions of propriety
It’s
that kind of love
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