A Logical Continuation of Love

You like being predictable
like the way I mouth
the words you’re about to say
the way the door opens
at the jingling of your keys
the way I’m waiting
to wrap you up daily
and smile
to find you there again

It’s enough for me
to find words waiting
to extract a measure of meaning
from the scrunchy nose
the delicately raised brow
skeptical for me
not of me
not of tomorrows
but the happiness of today

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