Home
He knows me more than I know myself.
I live through him always —
in the way he smiles, in the way he talks.
In the way he tastes and in the way he walks, it's all me.
I am his heartbeat and the pauses in between.
There is no space between us, even when we're apart.
Time doesn't travel between us; we carry it along, savouring each second.
We didn't get each other — we always belonged and just found ourselves again in this lifetime.
It isn't partnering up; it is the becoming of one soul, one life, one purpose.
To know he walks anxious when he's mad at me but will never yell.
To know he'll go out of his way to make me laugh.
To know I can rely on his shoes when my heels hurt after a long walk, even though a pair of my crocs are in the car.
The times he brings me closer by my hips.
When he cuddles me and sees beyond my tummy rolls.
When he cheekily slips his hands in my shirt.
And the mornings I wake up with him between my thighs.
The coat when I'm cold, the warm water when my throat is sore, the socks in winter and the cure when I get a splinter —
it's all him.
He's in my comfort food, my cozy bed.
His eyes are my morning view.
To me, home is not a place — it's a person.
And it's him.
His breath calls my name, and mine calls his.
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
