Asking me if I had something to eat.
Yelling at me for not eating enough.
Giving me a bath followed by a massage after a long flight.
Calling to see if my head is feeling better.
Offering to fly across the ocean to feed me.
Giving me space.
Coming over to spend the night.
Tickling me and making me laugh.
Squeezing and poking my pudge.
Laughing at the transcontinental fart over the phone.
Picking me up at 530am, when the flight is only at 8pm.
Sending funny messages just because.
Asking me what my sister would like to eat when she comes to visit.
Waiting patiently for me to get a cup of coffee even when you are starving.
Your love reminds me of my favorite sound. You are the wind. I am the tree. You breath into me, and my leaves dance, reflecting the white light from the above. You are the breeze that clears my head and warms my heart. I breathe in your love and dance as the leaves gyrate and shake our pain and past hurts. The music is the sound of our embrace, our play, our laughter.