Do You Still Love Me (today)

Do you still love me?
she asked me after turning
out the light and nestling
close. Are we OK?
A gentle chill pouring
through the opened windows,
some argument down the
street quilted into
the hum of streetlights
and a lowing chirr
of crickets. Do you
still want to be married
to me? Our cat at
the foot of the bed,
pacing, taking stock,
triangulating her
leap and where she
will nestle down
between us, locking
us in place for the
night. Into that
ocean’s inch which
separates us I
whispered I love
you heart and soul,
nose to balls to
toes. Fanning her
face with my breath.
I lay a hand behind
her back & her
lower back down
to her fanny over
a sateen of white
silk pajamas.
I love our life, I love
our days, I love this
house with you in it
surrounded by all
you have done to make
this house a home.
Her dark shape
hovering close like
an entreating spirit,
bathing in or drinking
the water of my words.
Insecure from seeing
nothing sell in her
booth & no sense
oat all that her long
dream of selling
custom embroidery
will ever sell,
I kiss her cheek
which is soft
as warm pudding.
We are on the shores
of sleep, each
waving farewell.
She is gone before
I can say I love
you with this poem
which has no
betweens, no unders,
no half gallon of
Scotch stashed
in the closet, no
woman’s voice
telephoning late
at night. I’m
gone before the
last words form
upon my lips.
I love you with this
kiss which no
wave can erase.