When you look at me like that in the car
or, when you don’t…
The way you stand next to me at the store
and you ask me how my day was…
When we start laughing loudly, with abandon
your hand touches mine in the bedlam.
Yes, I do notice.
Because when, you let me know.
The way your feet touch mine in your sleep
and the cats open their eyes for a moment
When you’re frustrated with me for not listening better
but you stop and remember who I am,
fuck, do I notice.
When you smile while you’re leaned over writing
and I’m sitting on the couch, watching…
you notice, too.
Because when, we do this much.
Chris Whitenack © 2014