Touching your warm skin,
buttercream.
Nestling arm over arm,
closeness dear.

No matter that we argued
whether I brought in the mail or not;
you need more than you acknowledge;
or staying home with the boys is more
important than getting to church on time.

You are my bridge to Other,
I am your human sounding board—
so much more than hollowed wall.

And we,
soft breaths on snow,
swirl round all truth
and find again
its name
is love.