(February/'47 / Connecticut, USA)

What It Is I Feel

You could bake for me cupcakes,
To then smother with thick gravy.
And I would eat them.
I would.

And as long as you were there,
To witness me doing this...
The smile on my face would be genuine.
Not a grimace from me would you see.

I would never be able to explain to anyone,
What it is I feel.
Or the depths of the love felt,
I have for you.

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