We'd be spending time, hand in hand, in woods and meadows and hills.

We'd talk for hours and turn everything into our shared words.
I'd sit with her, head in lap...

We'd spend hours just touching, listening to one another's breathing.

She'd come up behind me in the kitchen and surprise me with kisses, and arms around my neck... and I'd wash her back in the bath.

And would you do that with her?
Would you read aloud?

I'd play with her hair as she was falling asleep
and stroke her face when she was poorly.

And occasionally, I'd worship at her feet and tell her, prove to her that she was beautiful to me, and loved...
Her scars would be beautiful to me, and her laughter lines.
Crows feet.
Because they are part of what has made her.

And she would sit on the couch and tuck her feet under your thigh....

She'd rest her head on my chest as we read together,

and when you are cooking, she won't go off and read a book, but will come in and drink a glass of wine and chop garlic for you.
and talk about our days....

and I'd sneak up on her with kisses when she's taking her muddy boots off

and we'd touch as we washed up afterward
We'd love to sit in winter, by candlelight and listen to music
and make me laugh and kiss her for doing it.

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