As i glance at your cacao brown leather bound mahogany skin

i sigh

I breathe in

I breathe out

and i jog along the corners of my wispy mind

to find the answer to

why.

why

are you you my dear, the loveliest and fairest on the earth?

it is not the grandiose that makes my mind drunk

but it is in the small,

it is the way you cross your ankles during the sermon

how your hair curls against the edge of the pillows while you sleep

the way you cannot cook anything

but you do cook everything

and watch me with a child's excitement as i take the first bites.

it is the way you shrug when melancoly

and sing when you are wrought with sadness

it is the way you bite my cheek

and claw your nails into my skin when we sink into passion

it is how you place me between your nimble thighs and braid my hair

as though we are little girls on the heels of August

chattering into moist wind

and fanning our faces with newspaper.