Do you like being in love with me?
Even after all this time—me talking,
cooking, eating, after a shower,
after a long day’s work—
the small delights,
like putting on your favorite shirt.
Am I your favorite shirt?
Never folded, straight from dryer to torso—your favorite.
Do you like being in love with me
as much as you like that shirt?
Like that shirt,
do you also not mind
this little hole also in me?
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