our love: butter on bread.

A bottle of red wine: aged, opened, poured, and enjoyed. We light the candles around the living room and snuggle in close together, talking and whispering. Voicing our thoughts…

Many challenges and changes. The ones already fought through, ones still before us to face. We discuss the weekend that was; full of many moments and many emotions. The misunderstanding we had and the silence that followed. I had sat with a cup of tea and faced the wall, away from him. Hiding my face. And I read the words on the wall, my gift to him for Valentines. Words from the song sung during our ceremony. “there will be times and there will be things,” and I knew that now is one of those times and things. I read the rest of the words, “You are the love of my life”. He is. I am. We’re each others’ to keep.

This love between us is as smooth as butter on a fresh piece of warm of bread. It melts and soaks into our pours. Mouthwatering. But even then, we sometimes hit a piece that is dry from being in the oven to long. You swallow, feeling the dry crust scrape the edges of your throat. It’s uncomfortable. But you know it’s worth it, cause the next bite will be so delicious; the next moment so grand, you can’t help but continue forward.

And it was, and it is. The disagreement turned into softness, gentleness, thoughtfulness and laughter. During the hours that followed, the sun sunk below the horizon and, with our backs still warm, we talked with truthfulness in our words and our love flowed through every sentence.

… And here now we sit again, with lips stained from the red wine, laughing, smiling, flirting. Butter still soaking into our pours.

show hide 2 comments

Kathy - - 5:55 pm

Can’t wait to see what you can produce with your talent knock them dead with the wow factor

robyn michelle-lee - - 7:05 am

gorgeous metaphors…

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