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September 26, 2022

What Love Is

By Pete Armetta

While falling asleep on my belly with my face in the pillow, your hand casually rests on the small of my back. Waking before you, I sit at the table reading the paper as you quietly walk into the kitchen, boiling water for the French press. I pick up my head and take in your morning smile. Saying nothing, you come to me with the coffee pot and refill my cup.

"Aren't you going to have any?" I ask, searching your face, gazing into your eyes.

"No," you say. "I just made this for you."

















Article © Pete Armetta. All rights reserved.
Published on 2013-02-18
Image(s) © Sand Pilarski. All rights reserved.
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