February 26, 2012

My dearest,

We are at our desks, writing and reading, the way we do every evening. I get up and walk over to your desk. I stand there, a few steps away, just looking at you concentrating on your work. Eventually you turn and look at me.

“May I kiss you?” I ask.

“Okay,” you reply.

I walk over and gently plant a soft kiss against your cheek, next to your sideburns. You smell nice. And that moment, that kiss, is done and I’m standing again, a few steps away.

“You smell nice,” I say.

“Of course,” you say.

I nod, then turn and return to my desk. We continue.

Yours, ever and always.