Saturday, 26 May 2018
My definition of love
is when he scours the marketplace for that juicy mango he knows I crave.
The secret glance we share across the table.
The inside joke that explodes our lungs, but one that no one ever needs take part.
Love is the thoughtful emoji flashing on my phone when I least expect it.
That twinkle in his eye when he gazes at me,
And the flush in his cheeks when he watches me twirl in a new dress.
Love walks into my room with its eyes closed and plants a kiss on my forehead to stop me from panicking about my hair.
It never scoffs at my dreams and picks me up when I fall.
Love is that word he scribbles on a dinner napkin knowing my mouth will crack the moment I read it.
Love never tires of holding my hand and listening to all my complaints
And always seeks to be worthy of me.
Love is when he asks what he can do to make things better.
Love drives for hours just to spend those precious minutes together.
I’ve never known my morning breath to transform his face into folds of repulsion.
Love is when he will fight, stand toe to toe with me until an issue is resolved.
Love embraces all my flaws. Enough said.
Love is many things to different people, but one thing it is not is uncertain.
Nothing, I mean nothing, nurtures a woman more than the love of a good man.