no one ever warns you that the grace of a hot mug of coffee handed to you on a winter morning will be what saves you. no one told me that the insurance policy i'd sign on my partnership would be written in kitchen soap, backyard mud, and milk from the corner store. 

all the details i have learned to notice, becoming more mindful, becoming more grateful, seeing the splendor of my ordinary life, are touched by you. the way the streetlight fans across my bedroom, coasting over your rising and falling breaths. the pile of bills and coupons and high interest rate credit card offers in the mailbox addressed to two names. you are my kettle always full, my bookshelf never empty, my needs always heard, my heart always happy. my home is a place that follows your feet.