What Love Looks Like

it’s not pristine princesses in white towers
knights in armor shining without gore or stain
fighting blood-red dragons with breath of flame,
but commuting ten hours a week to work away from home
or understanding anger yet still having boundaries
or comforting someone with swollen eyes
and skin stinging red from salt tears
or letting one slip despite your best efforts
and being okay with it, with the knotted robe
and hair and a face creased by sheets
or finding me beautiful despite sixty more pounds

it’s knowing when to speak and when not
it’s comfort in silence, the click of a keyboard
or the hum of the tv between us,
it’s intimate between sheets and out of them
it’s making me feel like a princess
when our white tower is a cluttered split level
thirty-some years after we both fell
and fighting any dragons we meet

What are you looking for?