Naomi


Sitting at my desk, just after noon, coding again. 
Another hot, humid, New York summer day.
When she walks in and ask a question,
that just took my breath away.

It seemed routine, been there, always answered.
Usually with a sly grin and a white lie.
Do you love me honey?
Yes I do, then she asked me why.

Awkward pause, frozen momentarily, thinking quickly.
She's not kidding, I have to explain.
The silence is deafening, you know,
the kind you get after a passing train.

I suppose some deep long-winded answer,
would be an appropriate reply. 
She's my life, past and future wife, love her to death,
but at the moment I can't seem to pinpoint why.

Maybe it's the little things.
The face, the hair, the big brown eyes, the perfect smile.
Her sense of humour, forever the prankster,
laughter, infectious like a childs.

She likes my books, the same music, 
sports, computers, movies, it's just amazing.
Perhaps it's that sheepish grin, 
whenever I try to kiss her awake in the morning.

A soft touch, a tender hug, 
hot moist lips, whispering I want love.
That special thrust of her hips, 
that makes me soar like a dove.

She's ferocious, determined. 
Cross her and she's in your face,
eye to eye.
Kind, sensitive, it doesn't take much for her
to breakdown and cry.

She's waiting, patiently, feigning indifference. 
Like it's not really a big deal.
Nervous smile, I know better. 
Fuck this up and the sanctions won't be economic.

Naomi, honey, I love you.
Honestly, undeniably, I'm not really sure why.
But I'm certain that I'll be loving you,
Always 
till the moment I die.