Let Me Be The Tea She Loves To Warm... Poem by Charles Cross

Let me be the tea she loves to warm,
On the stove-top. Let me be in the nuzzle-tops
Of her daydreams when she needs more excitement.

Let me play in her favorite sitcom, or
Sink into whatever she's reading. I want to be
The character she follows when she needs someone.

Let me be the needle to the record she
Plays over the sound of birds. Let her dissolve
Into the morning I've touched when she wants to be touched.

Let me be the bloom of perennial flowers
Below her chin when she smiles, I want to be
Behind her everglow when she dresses warm with laughter.

Let me be the frame to the pictures she
Takes. I want to be the setting and focus. Let me
Grow within the something when she sees something more.

Let me be the the tea she loves to warm
And drink, the tea she feels more than anything.
Let me be in her humble. Let me be more than a man…

...it's not enough.