I don’t really care
if you wash the dishes
in the dishwasher
even after
I’ve washed them and placed them
in the drying rack.
I don’t really care
that my desire to buy
large pots
and dirt
and throw seeds in them
to see what comes up
annoys you.
What is most important
is the knowing of each other.
The small things
are who we really are.
When I was sick and despairing,
you comforted me,
forced me to eat,
and stroked my hair.
When you come home to me,
I listen to your stories
your sorrows, worries,
triumphs and joys.
We still sleep
entwined,
my arms wrapped around
your strong back,
or your leg snuggled
between my thighs.
And thus we know each other
past the superficial conversations
of friends
and casual lovers.
gaia mouse 