worshiping my wife

yesterday,
when I wiped the bit of marshmellow from your nose,
you used those wild green eyes like a champion
and winked the wink of a wicked witch right at me
as you cackled madly from the arches in your feet

you're so sweet,
but not pink sticky sweet like cotton candy,
your georgia iced tea sweet
eating at Ida Mae and Joe's at the end of August

so I poked you on the left cheek
and grabbed you a bit more forcefully
than I intended

you can take it
you aren't the girl with red painted toe nails
and frufru tastes

you're the girl that loves me
more than a banana pancake
a nosebleed
or even a boston cream doughnut