©2013 Susan Noyes Anderson
I love you like the ocean’s roar.
In fact, I love you even more.
Yes, every stupifying snore.
I love the wind between your lips.
Your exhale doesn’t sigh; it rips.
(The breeze it blows could sink warships.)
And yet, your wild wind fills my sail.
Each night you wrap me in a gale,
a storm set off with each inhale.
Your foghorn warns me through the night.
My eyes fly open, wide and bright.
(I wake up safe but look a fright.)
I love your spittle when you spray me,
but do I need a respite? Maybe.
Without you, I sleep like a baby.