what better than our continued yes?

we almost missed an opportunity to paint our kitchen. we almost missed a chance to tile our floor. we worked so hard on digging the foundation, digging too deep in some areas, far too shallow in others. there were times when we threatened to spoil the land surrounding our plot. we are barely contractors. we have just a few tools. we are pouring concrete anyway. I couldn’t be happier.

‘I could walk the streets with you, count your steps, hold tight to your fingers.”

we are fond of big open spaces, couches with rivet patterns, pillows. You love pillows more than I do. I love throw rugs and ornate things from places where everything seems to be ornate. I want Turkish furnishing and blankets, I want faux furs and soft woven fabrics, tapestries. You like the dark colors and I favor the lush dried blood reds. I am connected to you and your smile is a large bowl perfect for pasta.

“the best moments are spent laughing out loud”

we almost missed out on placing the large basin sinks you adore next to the dishwasher. missing that I would not have seen you run to turn on the water. nothing is more adorable than your ambitions married to the dancing you save for empty rooms and well cooked food. I'm surprised by how far you’ll go, how sexy and demure you are when you decide to pinkie swear, and how determined you become to keep it.

“ you are my person, you feel like home”

the walls are set for hanging paintings. you’ve commissioned me, and I paint from a place of unknowing. you think everything I do is beautiful. we both offer each other a grace and understanding that can only be taught through faith and struggle. you struggle against me and I pin you to yourself so I can feast on your open willing yes I do, yes I will, and yes we are. the things you say and the ways you bend yourself to me are beautiful. I am thankful that the floor is even and the paint is drying. I am thankful that the doors are straight and the closet is mirrored. I am thankful for the book fetish you allow me to continue while your spreadsheets and lotions crowd the table next to your laptop spilling onto our bed. we live in a world without clocks. we rise to each other and fall inside our own quiet breathing. we have kissed like a fist fight, and washed each other bodies to purity.

‘it is good to be here, in this place with you, I miss you terribly and completely”

a mile from the place we first kissed I found you, cold with a blank stare. I mentioned that you can come home now. the odors, and gases had been taken out of our home, there wasn't a chance of a recurrence of the discomfort of yesterday. the way we both woke up with chunks of us missing. you turned to me and finally buried your face into the place I had been emptying and rearranging for you. it was good to see that you hadn’t lost your keys, with a hand on my hip you inserted the key and unlocked the door….

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