Three Little Words

As her up-do is blown apart
and raindrops splatter her
new shoes and dress,
I see the person
who gets me.
She offers to eat
at bars so I can
catch the game,
then wipes my
tears when the
Giants lose again.
Her smile and frown
when I haven’t
put the dishes away.
The way her hair
drapes the pillow
in the early morning light.
The million cosmetics
that crowd my aftershave.
Giggles that turn
into snorts when
I try to dance.
Her eyes that
shine and glow
when I walk into the room.
As we huddle
underneath the awning
and the wind tries
to lift her dress,
I whisper

“I can’t believe,
You chose me!”

© Esther Moreira


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