unreasonable elegance in common ranges of motion; you make flipping through the channels a five-star event, poised like a GQ photograph with your sneakers on the coffee table, sourdough pretzel crumbs shining like diamonds in the week old sweater on your cheeks, graying, you don’t care, and neither do I even though I say I do. when you’re gossiping you lift the end of each sentence like a New York City mobster, like a padre calling his bambini with a fat cigar burning in his mouth, and I am tempted to kiss you. that knife you use for everything gleams like a sword from the back pocket of your jeans, I laugh as you pull it out to cut the unruly thread from my t-shirt, slip it away again as graceful as a cowboy in a showdown; I smile at the way I call you home in all of the minuscule ways you cushion my existence. spoiled as a thick faced child I am always tight-roping the wire of your gratefulness; i love you, remember.
and I am
living in the most lush of gardens; reds, reds and golds, they’re all I see.