Getting Around the Words

He stands in the kitchen

guzzling Pepsi,

another one of his admirable traits

and I smile.

He nibbles on an infant's belly,

something juvenile for joy.

Can I help it?

No, I smile.

He turns to me now,

daring to attack with affection

with deep desire as a motive.

I grin.

He embraces me,

not knowing what the relationship is

but he loves it anyway.

I giggle.

I wonder if he can see through me.

But the benefit of the doubt comes when he says

"I love you."

His blind to awareness.

I could say that too,

and I did.

I told him, "I love how you make me

smile."