You still sit beside me as I rested after a long day, 
brushing my hair out of my face.

At dusk we go into the kitchen, 
you wash the lettuce and tell me about your day,
I laugh, forget things, and cut carrots into funny shapes.

And there are breadcrumbs and spilled wine on the tablecloth,
we still haven’t quite figured out how to be better at this,
but in the fading sunlight we are learning, God we are learning.

Before falling asleep
I look for your hand to touch mine.

Love is not difficult.
Not difficult at all.