sometimes i'm silent. i don't mean to be . . .
not really. i just like the comfortable silence between us sometimes, though it's not really.
i like hearing his heart beating in my ear drum with my cheek pressed agains his chest.
or to hear his breathing on th pillow across from me,
his heat radiating throughout the bed and keeping me warm on icy winter mornings.
i like the things that make him different.
his limp. and his mostly blind eye.
I remember the morning i covered it and asked him
to tell me what he saw. just shape and colour,
with no real definition.
his walk with "swagger". it makes my lips curl whenever i see it.