Pushing Pause

Sometimes I wish we could push pause on everything else except us.

On everything that’s going on except me loving you and you loving me.

I’d like to spend as much time as possible listening to you breathe.

Right beside me,

right behind me,

or right in front of me

with your face touching my face as I breathe your breath and your heart starts to beat with mine like we did so often when we first met, when love stepped in and did the meditating

for us.

Feeling your hand as it rests perfectly on any part of my body

as if it were made to be there.

Watching you smile with your eyes and noticing how it lands on my skin.

Tasting your voice and your laughter when it washes over me.

I’d like to experience us in slow motion when you walk by me

or move around me

and I turn just my head to follow you while I remain motionless

and I inhale your cologne and close my eyes as if that will help it last longer.

I’d like to savor more moments of the rise and fall of your chest against me as you sleep soundly

while I recount the events of our day and relish in the audacity of our dreams

and give thanks,

and pray,

and I’d like to know time is on our side and neither one of us has to think about cancer because time is paused

for everything else going on

except me loving you

and you

loving me.