Love, On Purpose

Love, On Purpose

I don’t want the movie version

I want the Tuesday version with socks on the floor.

The kettle clicking like a small green light,

Your mug already out (mine still in the sink).

﹁﹂

I choose you in the boring places:

at the checkout when the card reader stalls,

in the elevator mirror where we look half-asleep,

When my mouth wants to be sharp and clever

And I swallow it, messy, like medicine.

﹁﹂

Some days it’s easy

your laugh, a warm coin in my pocket.

Other days it’s a decision with a spine,

a hand on the doorknob saying, stay.

﹁﹂

I write your name on the grocery list

next to tomatoes and “don’t forget oat milk,”

Like love is also a thing you buy on purpose

and carry home without dropping.

﹁﹂

In the dark, your breathing maps the room,

and I follow it, not romantic—just real.

I keep showing up, again, again,

even when my thoughts run off like kids in rain.

﹁﹂

If we rhyme, it’s accidental.

If we last, it’s because we meant it.