Loving you is like hanging from a tree.
15-year-old with strong calves, brushing against the low arched Guava,
head in the wind, clouds conniving.
Mama calling in the distance for the clothes on the line.
Loving you is like tea after a short night.
Sweet and light, clear and warm.
No expectations. No exciting jolt to reality.
Flowing through with ease and divine adjustments, regulating kidney and breath, justifying blankets and cough.
Loving you is like a 98% battery after lights out.
A light for all things necessary.
Source of laughter in the silent darkness of a Watt frozen world.
Loving you is like a flowing tap on Saturday morning.
Gushing with gusto; ready to wash the week’s trials and tribulations.
Fervent in mission to cleanse and restore.
No tempting trickles. So fuss.
Just flow and glow.