I love to be alone with your beautiful mind, sitting in the living room, feet up on the coffee table.
Wild hair, furry slippers and you.
We lie on the couch and I’m silent and I let you just happen to me without pretenses. Whatever you are, you are. This is the best way I know how to love you.
And love you, I do. You captivate me. The way your words turn to poetry.
I swear, I could read them a thousand times.
I know you like the back of my hand. I’ve memorized you. I’ve got you down. You are the embodiment of predictability in the most enchanting sense of the word.
Then suddenly you’re shocking, you turn my head around. You envelop me and I can’t put you down. I run my fingers along your spine.
We’re just in the living room but your words take me elsewhere. Inconceivable heights, unimaginable adventures. And as I’m standing, wide eyed, in the midst of one of your exploits I marvel ”I never thought I’d be here.”
I whisper, “Thank you for this.” But you don’t seem to hear me. You just grab my hand and pull me further.
Further. We march through the treacherous fields of history. Further. We trek the dangerous jungle of politics. Further. We wade the murky waters of religion. Further. We sit and rest a while, basking in the warmth of art and love and magic.
You introduce me to strange and wonderful characters I never dreamt I’d meet. You paint me pictures of faraway lands and distant pasts and anticipated futures. You breathe life and knowledge into me and I am your agreeable vessel.
But then, what’s this? You say something preposterous.
I snap at you! You’ve taught me too much to agree with nonsense.
How can you be so thick!
Let’s not be hasty, not so quick.
Practice that pretty patience. Side step jarring snap judgements. Think: critically, openly.
What’s that they say? Empty minds make the most noise. But mine is filled with you.
Oh, I love to be alone with you. You’ve made my mind beautiful too.