I want to bask in the warm glow
That radiates off you without you even noticing, as,
Lips pressed shut,
You scrub a brittle green pad across the frying pan,
Then, setting it down, raise a glass of water
up to your mouth with your spidery, bony fingers.
I want to walk past as you brush your teeth,
your gaze averted from the mirror,
the bristly sounds audible from the hall.
It would be both an honor and a pleasure
To sit perched on the opposite end of the couch as you
Flip a book open and begin to read
silently, eyes alight.