Things I almost remember

Lovely happy thoughts; sipping on hot coco (admittedly a little too hot, but drink it down quick anyway,) staring at stars and silently naming them, counting them.  Stories about the old woman who lives next door, long walks in the woods, the dogs you would like to have and the gardens I want to plant someday. 
We're singing, and I'm spilling everywhere, and everything is just ok.  I'm not head over heels, not now.  But to have someone look at me that way, like they want to eat me up and enjoy every morsel: that is something I have forgotten that I thrive on it.
Walking into the house, talking about everything while saying nothing at all- how wonderful it is to have no deeper meanings to worry about.  When you take my jacket and tell me I look lovely, it's true.  Later on perhaps you will complain about my hair tickling your nose as we lie in bed; I will threaten to cut it all off until you are begging to take your words back and we are both laughing until our sides ache. 
Large sentiments and heartfelt proclamations be damned, tonight I am happy to make love, not be in it.