#kz writes

It is more than shared cups of coffee. It's being glad I stayed through the night.

Beginning at the kitchen table, I cannot escape the calling of my soul, Now we are making spaces for books and records, as many as my own.

It isn’t just needy and impatient, it is freckles, worn out pyjamas and air dried hair.

Making puns and geeky jokes, drawing constellations on our skin, They know when I want to go out, and why I never fit in.

It is handmade presents and homecooked meals, kisses in the midnight sun.

Asking hypotheticals for pure chaos, being the support under our feet, Someone who fights with me about the things that matter, and knows which cake can make it all keep.

I found someone who loves Autumn and Winter just as I.

Seeing us in darkness and in light, they know the ugly, then the good, Someone who laughs and cries with me, without having to wish they’d understood.

Imperfect, fallible, and human, it is finding God in the mundane.

Figuring it all together, in concept and in practice, even when we are afraid, Shared chores, dreams and pains, being our own people just like I had prayed.

It is discovery of new horizons, where teases become terms of endearment.

Hand in hand, and heads in laps, not leaving each other when we are alone, Someone to behold in all the colours known to man, be weird with, to call and sing - "Come home".

Mama, I’ve met someone good.

I’ve met someone considerate and kind, And even if the world ends, I’ve got someone to love in the meantime.

⋆｡°✩*ੈ✶⋆.˚✩‧₊˚⋆˚☆˖°⋆｡° ✮˖ ࣪ ⊹⋆.˚⋆˙⟡⋆✴︎˚｡⋆⊹.˚⟡ ݁₊˚⊹⋆☆˖°

In letters, and ramblings and doodles.

On a gold foiled card, or brown paper cardboard.

On a ketchup stained napkin, or rain soaked newspaper.

On a pamphlet corner, a calendar square, or an old shred of giftwrap.

On a receipt for onions, an invoice for tires, or a greasy burger king bag.

Write me anything.

And I will love every sentence, word, sylable and coma.

I will love them, because they are yours.

And because by your hand, all of it, becomes ours.

⋆｡°✩*ੈ✶⋆.˚✩‧₊˚⋆˚☆˖°⋆｡° ✮˖ ࣪ ⊹⋆.˚⋆˙⟡⋆✴︎˚｡⋆⊹.˚⟡ ݁₊˚⊹⋆☆˖°

I love you, under Autumn's rotting foliage. Through bitten, torn and jagged roots.

I love you, in the twigs that will never become branches. And the heavy boughs, weighed down with frost.

I love you, in burnt petals and dry bark. In scarred and carved out flesh. In leaking resin, flowing into caverned trunks.

I love you, in all the shallow corners. And the deeps unmet by sunlight, where no fruit will ever grow.

I love you, in the hollows where rain feeds mold. Where moss swims, but no other living creature does.

I love you, like nature loves. Where you are unadorned, unaltered and unfiltered. In all the parts you deem imperfect.

I love you, where you are kissed by the earth. Irrevocably human, and undeniably glorious.

In all the parts that make you, You.

I love you.

⋆｡°✩*ੈ✶⋆.˚✩‧₊˚⋆˚☆˖°⋆｡° ✮˖ ࣪ ⊹⋆.˚⋆˙⟡⋆✴︎˚｡⋆⊹.˚⟡ ݁₊˚⊹⋆☆˖°

in grand sonnets, hymns or epitaphs.

I can only show you with my living hands.

In countless simple human ways.

I can carry heavy produce bags up the hill from the market. Fill the kitchen cupboards with all your favourite things, and cook you dinners like your grandmother used to.

I can check your engine light, change your oil or wipe down your windows. Rotate your tires, and install a new radio so we may fight over the station and bell out classic 80s rock.

I can clear the weeds from your garden, chop every onion and peel all your fruits. Clean your gutters, reseal your shower, and lay flower stickers on each tile of your house.

I can walk the dog at 6 am, let you sleep till noon, and have an espresso for you at the ready. Build you bookshelves, paint your walls, and drive you to the station.

I can help you fill your tax forms, and save you the last slice of every cake, pie and pastry.

I can welcome you with open arms, even when we're angry, and promise you the world, as we hang on to each other.

I can give you a life time, if not eternity, and spread my soul for you in every corner of our home.

I cannot tell you that I love you,

in grand gifts, plans or proclamations.

But I want to show you, now and always.

In our own simple human ways.

⋆｡°✩*ੈ✶⋆.˚✩‧₊˚⋆˚☆˖°⋆｡° ✮˖ ࣪ ⊹⋆.˚⋆˙⟡⋆✴︎˚｡⋆⊹.˚⟡ ݁₊˚⊹⋆☆˖°

Still climbing, I carry too much desire in my heart like an illness, and you are what ails me. An everpresent hover, you are my second shadow.

I don't want to give you less, so you may love me more. I starve for you until I ache, and I want to feed you love till bursting.

I don't want to be your part time soulmate. I want two pairs of slippers by the door, and two toothbrushes on the bathroom sink. I want a necklace of bruises in the shape of your teeth. I want to give up the last slice of pizza just to see your sauce stained face grinning ear to ear.

I want tax returns, Costco hauls, and sorting out recycling. I want mowing lawns, building furniture, and burning treks to the farmers market.

I want scrawled notes, shared chores, and tedious errands. I want trips to the vet, family albums, and to know the names of all your childhood toys.

I want to cradle in my palms, the bits of you that aren't good, or whole, or funny. The bits that no one looks at, not even you.

I will not pretend I don't, when I know that were I to let go of your hand today, in fifty years, it is of you I'd still be dreaming.

Everything I want in life, I want with you. Freeing and crushing in equal measure.

Because it is, and it is, all love.

With You.

⋆｡°✩*ੈ✶⋆.˚✩‧₊˚⋆˚☆˖°⋆｡° ✮˖ ࣪ ⊹⋆.˚⋆˙⟡⋆✴︎˚｡⋆⊹.˚⟡ ݁₊˚⊹⋆☆˖°

Do not reach fot its centre, expecting the scent of sweet fuits, and do not abandon your quest, when met only with the rotting pomace of hurts past.

If you peel back its petals, slightly burnt, jagged, and devoured by plagues, do so only with fingers cast in iron and silver. There in the depths, you will find runes of your name.

Hold it gently, plant it in the earth, and water it with your laughter. Let it grow into a willow, so I may envelop you with my limbs and engulf you in my foliage.

So I may protect you from the wind, and caress you gently with kisses from my branches. Blanket you in shadows, safe and hidden from the sun's scorching hands.

Lay your head upon my trunk, and use my body as a shelter. Let me feel the touch of your hold, against the winding roots at your feet.

Stay with me beyond eternity, even if you are to fell me one day and hew me open in the middle of the forest floor. Then still from my core would tumble out no other treasure, but endless shreds, littered only with letters of your name.

⋆｡°✩*ੈ✶⋆.˚✩‧₊˚⋆˚☆˖°⋆｡° ✮˖ ࣪ ⊹⋆.˚⋆˙⟡⋆✴︎˚｡⋆⊹.˚⟡ ݁₊˚⊹⋆☆˖°