Turquoise or Amethyst?

It was one of those stupid tiffs couples have--
a slight inconvenience complicated by timing
and further confused by alcohol. It would've blown
over by morning had no one addressed it, but
she didn't let it come to that. I got out of bed
to take a leak. When I came back I noticed
that my pillow was missing and hers was now
in the center of the bed. I figured that meant
I'd be sleeping on the floor and didn't have
the energy to argue over it, but I was wrong.
"I hid your pillow. We can share mine if you want."
Any of you who've had a relationship of this caliber
know how amazing make-up sex is, so I'll spare you
the details.
"Did you like my trick?" she asked afterwards.
"Yeah, thanks for coming through."
It wasn't so much a trick as a tool to reconcile.
It felt good knowing I wouldn't be the only one to
make amends before bedtime from now on.
We passed out in each others arms
bare as the days we were born
with the lights still on
and our legs entangled in a marbled mess.
She must've gotten up to hit the lights
at some point during the night, and
she didn't even turn off
the air conditioning I'd begged to turn on
even though she was probably cold.
I'm sure the sight of me drooling on the sheets
with my hairy beergut let loose to gravity
in my post-coitus slumber didn't repulse
her one bit, even though it'd be enough
to frighten most. I'm insecure
about certain things and probably always will be
but she somehow manages to make me feel beautiful
on a daily basis; not in the way Grace Kelly was on the screen
nor an Olympic figure skater in the rink-- no, nothing inherent
or blatant or boastful. It's all filtered through the prism of her love
like the way an old, haggard blues guitarist
with liver spots and bloody gums is transformed
as soon as he makes those notes bend
you to tears, or a welder who knows his trade
better than he knows his children
binds those metals together expertly and with pride
until the last joint is sealed.
It's a loveliness often missed out on since it requires
more attention than most take the time to give
and it's more than I think I deserve being given, though
she begs to differ, thankfully.
After the Incident
my mother told me a day of reckoning would come
and until then I'd rack up experience points
for the long haul.
I know she'll sleep better
knowing the hands
my heart's finally in
after she meets the pillow thief.




Currently reading:
"Hell's Angels" by Hunter S. Thompson.