After thirty years of marriage, Romance becomes the knack
For telling me, your husband that my breath stinks like rotting
Flesh even while you admit to me that my lips are still as
Soft as marshmallows
And my being able to tell you that you eat too many carrots,
Which is why your hands are orange, yet are still nice to caress
As I walk with you on the satin sands at Kailua beach late
On Sunday mornings.
This is all the result, My Dear, of nothing less than the vast
Comfort that comes from being so used to having each
Other to pick on and yet I can still wonder over that fresh
Flower in your hair
Or you, the song I learned to play that you never noticed
Me practice. Now even as my life grows drowsy with age,
I do not fear that long sleep where my dreams will be
Eternally you.
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