Morning.

You formulated this idea in my mental kitchen that I will nurture and take care of you in such ways. Be the woman enveloped with the dirtiest parts of you. Be sweet to you, so sweet to you… You truly love that the most. You never had a woman so willing, so caring, that when you walk through the door, towards, the energy I absorb. Anything you ask, I’m your mami, all yours. I don’t even need to know where you are… You are behind me, arms folded, waiting, agitated, becoming even more. Acknowledge me, you and your scorn.

Truth - You’ve told me one afternoon, sitting across from a cup of coffee, you like how fit I am and “I think you can handle me, when I handle you hard".