Being with you is peace and calm
and adrenaline rush,
and life going on
Unfolding itself in dazed arrays
Enclosing us both for hours and days,
And being without you's another poem.
I will deal with it once
I've lost it all.
Once I've lost my heart,
and without you,
my home.
My heart is
here, now.
My home
is small, and full
of whatever we'd always need.
Bursting with plan and with recipe,
and all the ingredients
we'd want in. Let's make
every dish we could wish,
fill every glass we could drink,
raise every toast, and clink
to each, and dig in.
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