Your love is like residing in a room
with someone who doesn’t want
to leave the bed on a Sunday
—cleaning your way back to dirty
in a steamy, shared shower
—hugs so healing that they
always unravel those unaddressed tears
—words I’m consistently interested
in hearing somebody say
Your love is like alleviation
of chronic pain
—excited laughter when progress
suddenly comes easy
—enough money in the bank
to start thinking of debt as a memory
—new meals, and old movies,
at least once per week
Your love is like going
from Cracker Jack to Cadillacs
—foreplay in the form
of campfires, and hot tubs
—hiking growlers
to the nearest brewery
—forgetting how broken things are
in order to help a child feel happy
Your love is like uncorrupted politics
in a society which others
can truly be proud of
—a new song by my favorite artist
—Juliet if she had but woken sooner
—the ability to freely visit
with anyone who’s ever lived
And, for me, your love
will continue to be worth
the home-sized cross I bear
in order to feel it at will
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