100 Words on Love, by Mitch Kellaway
–
i hear the crunch of her key
in the door and know
the next few minutes are
for her alone
she calls out my name as
she tosses her purse aside and
crossing the room in a few strides,
perches on my lap
her tone, her hurry, her posture
are all well-practiced:
shorthand for the longing built up
over time spent apart
sighing, I try to return to work but
am unable as,
according to ritual,
she clings to me until
i can’t help but chuckle
i release myself, then
for as long as she needs
to rest against me
–
–
Photo: Flickr/Daquella manera