None More

Slow dancing to Sam Cooke under the mountaintop stars,

Cooking creamy chicken parmesan alfredo Saturday night

While hearing the pot singing and sizzling.

Laughing until our insides crumble in pain,

Reading our way into other worlds,

Rock 'n' rolling,

People-watching from a leafy balcony, high from terra firma.

These are things I have loved.

But none more than I love you.

 

This poem is about: 
Me

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