The Rest of my Days

I want to spend the rest of my days on this rock,

happily bouncing through stores and mundane places,

laughing and acting silly,

riding shopping carts through parking lots,

making faces

and sticking our tongues out at one another in public places, 

watching coffee pots fill in the morning, 

cooking cool things with constant interruptions for hugging, 

sitting up all night in bed

doing nothing in particular but our own stuff,

but doing it together, 

debating things with the seriousness of a world summit,

then dismissing it because its really not as interesting

as noticing every fleck of color in a Spring sunset, 

looking into each others eyes

and seeing our own souls staring back, 

holding one another close needing no words at all

when emotions are joyously high or solemnly low, 

watching you quiver with delight at your first morning sip of joe

or the passion of our touching, 

listening to the sound of your voice reading your writings

or talking about your interests, 

feeling your eyes follow me across a room

even though I cant see them, 

being completely wrapped in your arms

whether in the center of a crowd

or alone in bed skin to skin, 

hearing you call me beautiful

even when I look like hell warmed over...

I want to spend the rest of my days 

both of us whispering "I love you."