Mellow Sunday Morning
You are completely mine/ And that goes for all time
We both feel it's fine/ That our hearts align
Something has birthed itself/ alive as champagne fizz
Transmutation through union/ shows that love is all there is
That devil in the details/ need not apply to us
Nor the definitions/ which cause so much fuss
There may be no label/ For our dual experience
But mutual affection/ Is the feeling which takes prominence
We may not have a future, a present, or a past
But knowing that you're loving me/ Is all that I could ask
I burned another pot today/ While writing my poetry
Cooking takes a second place/ when thinking of your face
My love is existential/ perhaps a bit minimalist/
Yet the tingle is no swindle/ imagining your kiss
The honor of your regard/ remains a compliment/
A dyed-in-wool romantic/ is this what was meant?
On this Sunday morning/ I drink a loving cup/
If you had not appeared in flesh/ I'd have to make you up.
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