We speak different love languages
Mine is words,
His is affection
And despite his best attempts
And my enthusiastic moaning
And even a few counselling sessions;
Seven years in, we are no closer
To speaking the same tongue
And I have realised, it is fine
We are fine.
I will always be the one who writes
Lyrically about our love,
Capture the challenges in prose
Write essays in anniversary cards.
He will always be the one who
Shows love, who holds me every night
In a gorilla grip,
Who is practical, even when it comes to
Matters of the heart,
His cards an eloquent
I love you and the gift something
Purposeful.
And I will admit,
That I have learnt his language
Become accustomed to it,
And in the dead of night
In his arms
I believe
Everything will be alright.

copyright Hiraeth 2016