Two years ago I wrapped my arms
Around my body and
Sang myself to sleep,
When I woke
I woke up to chilly
Air and an empty bed,
No matter the time of year.
Wherever I went, silence followed.
Showers sounded like quiet rain
In the forest,
Eating sounded like an upset dinner table.

Then came you.

Now we sleep sprawled out together
On my full bed and when I wake up
My arms reach for you,
In the morning it sounds like
Laughter and water splashing
And me rinsing your back off.
It sounds like sizzling bacon and
Scrambled eggs. Coffee and orange juice.

Our bedroom always smells like ***
And our cars smell like cigarettes.
Your college notebooks clutter up the
Chairless dining table,
Because we are still too broke to buy chairs.

At night our neighbors hear my voice
Reading to him all the books I think
Are worth reading.

They hear laughter, giggles and *******.

They hear the beginning of a family.