And it was one of those kind of days.
Enjoyment of the little things.
She filled both my hands.
My mind at ease,
She was very good at stuff like that.
Warm to the touch, my hands snug around her.
The way she smelled was life itself.
Flooding my nose with endless memory.
Deliciously swirled & tasted.
My insides fluttering in thought.
No longer empty but filled by anticipation.
This was the kind of weather she was made for.
Jeans, sweaters.
Lazy days to throw any old thing on and lounge around.
It was one of those kind of days she filled my mug,
My hands with hot chocolate.
Her being the very chocolate that warmed my soul

Of all things
Just because