I made our bed. I tucked her in. After the supper I had cooked.
She kissed me with all her love then.
She grilled me sandwiches. She baked me a brownie.
I simply painted the sky blue for her.
I blew on the dust. And built those shelves. And brewed some coffee.
She made it rain then, the wet virgin rain.
We walked underneath the clouds. She held my hand tight.
And we worked on a stubborn poetry together.
She kissed my arms. Patted my tummy. We sipped our brew.
And I made love to her very brilliance.