Sans titre

oh i love to take care of the woman that i am. i fold her laundry and spread a generous amount of jam on her toasts at 6 in the morning. i braid her hair whenever she doesn’t feel like detangle them. i slightly caress her cheek when she feels a bit low. i know exactly how she likes her coffee: a sugar, two shots of expresso, three pumps of hazelnut sirup and four drops of milk. i want to make her life more valuable only by my own existence. i pray for her every night, i wish her sweets dreams and love and kindness and stars because she deserves it more than anyone else. i am her. i deserve sweet dreams and love and kindness and hazelnut coffee, just as much as stars and flowers and late night walks.