I like it when you make me drinks;
Your concentration and precision,
The earnestness of your brow when you eye the jigger,
Your fascination with the elegance of ice spheres.
Whether it’s a classic Martini, a Negroni,
Or the White Russians you make
Just because I like them,
Your competence with adult beverages
Quite frankly draws me in,
And I like to taste the edge of the alcohol
While I watch you move around the kitchen,
Thinking of how glad I am
That it’s me you’re making cocktails for.
All this brings me to my point, which is to say:
Somewhere between sips of my last Gin and Tonic
As I watched you put the lime away
I realized that, these days,
I love you more than ever.
.
I'd tell them, you know, if they wanted to know. I'd tell them all sorts of things.
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