day of truth

to the love of my life who has gifted me with three extra ways to love him even more.

a tribute, perhaps the only valentine’s day poem to include the word “poop”.

——————————

it’s true
sometimes we only kiss once a day
and even then our teeth may not be brushed
and the only prolonged touching
is when our feet find each other at night
toe to toe, both of us wrapped around our perfect sleeping boy

it’s true
sometimes we feel more like roommates than lovers
as we pass each other in halls, each a child in arms
and stack our dirty dishes and clothes
next to yesterday’s lunch and lego robots
and notice each other laughing from separate laptops

it’s true
our bodies are softer and rounder
and our eyes speak of long nights on little sleep
and my lingerie drawer has been relegated to storage
but you’ve never looked hotter than
when you read books under the moonlight to our girls

it’s true
sometimes our biggest excitement
is when there are no poop accidents
and when bedtime occurs before nine
and the serendipity of watching the sun set behind the Mogollon rim
as our three children marvel from the backseat of the truck

it’s true
life changes after having kids
but the love never does
it only gets better and more efficient and simpler
and worn in like your favorite pair of jeans
nothing gets better than this

it’s true
there seems to be less time for us, but the moments
we connect again are like a soft, gentle flame
perhaps not a roaring fire, but a candle
whose wax melts like our fullest of hearts
nothing gets better than this

it’s true
we don’t spend valentine’s day in Sedona anymore
or stare into each other’s eyes across
from a candlelit dinner and dessert
and the lounging in bed until noon
only happens when we are sick (and really, only that’s only until nine)

it’s true
we will spend valentine’s day fuller than ever
remembering how we started into each other’s eyes
as our children left one world and entered this one
and now stare across the scratched and colored-on
dinner table into three pairs of bright eyes (two brown, one blue)

and we will lounge in bed with three extra people
as they giggle and snooze and nurse and snuggle
and every time, we will meet each other’s gaze
as a tiny hand encases ours
and we will say
“it’s true, nothing gets better than this”

las 2011

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