On love

No red roses with baby's breath wrapped in tacky cellophane.
No big Valentine's balloon.
No cheesy Valentines day card.

Instead.

A lie in in bed.

Breakfast in bed.

A statue.
A yoga lady.
Because she reminds him of me.
A soy candle.
Rose and geranium.
He says it smells like the earth.

A poem.
On giving.
Because he says I give so much.

He says he wanted me to nurture myself.
So he got me the yoga lady.
Because I love yoga.
And the candle.
To meditate.
Because I am so much better when I meditate.

And he has always written me poems.
And love letters.
Always.
He is always giving.

He is my knight in shining armour.

My Valentine.

I love you.

My Sweetie.

Always.