There Is Music In The Living Room
Which Is Nothing New
It′s Never Not In Our HouseTonight, You Put On An Exhausted 7-inch Of
Donny Hathaway's A Song For You That
Purrs And Pops
Warms The Room Like A
Bag Of Kettle Corn In A Sauna

And Maybe They′re Too Old For This Now, But
The Kids Are Making Handmade Valentine Cards Out Of
Old Parchment Paper We've Collected Over The Years
A Pink Plastic Bin Of
Bark, Leaves, Stones, Seashells, Leather, Clay, And
All Sorts Of Hand-me-down Knick-knacks
Hides Under The Old Bunkbed In Their Room
For Such Evenings Like This One
All Of It Sprawled Out On The Egyptian Rug My
Mom Bought In 1995
The Best "new-parent Money" Could Buy, She Told Me
Her Gift To Us The Night Before The Wedding
In Small Company

Even Now, In A Time Where They Could
Visit A Water Park On Neptune
Digitally Sculpted And Programmed Into Their Brain Chips
At Any Time, You Insist Our Children Be Crafty
Kept Them Engrossed In Making Everything By Hand
Taught Them About The Texture Of Glitter
How Holding It All Together In The
Cupped Mug Of Your Hands Could Help Teach You
How To Love A Beautiful Mess Of Another Person
While I Was Off Being A Fireworks Show For Them
You Were Gifting Them Mugs Filled
With Hot Lemon Balm Tea And Lavender
When They Came Back

Never Ever Forever Never
Do I Thank You Enough For These Things

Rest Your Head On My Shoulder
Let's Slow Dance
You Love Like A Lioness
Glitter In Your Mane
Glue Caked On Your Paw
Claws On My Back When We Sway
But Never Sharp
I′m Crooning An
Off-tune Falsetto Onto Your Eardrum
Just Soft Enough To Be
A Balmy Breeze In The Sahara

I Love You In A Place Where There Is No Space Or Time

On Our Egyptian Rug With
Frosted Flakes Milk And
Argentinian Wine Stains
All Over Our Space From
Different Times

You′ve Always Been
So Beautiful
At 8:31 PM