Kisses in the Kitchen

It's where the light is soft, And the plates are still warm. Where the day has already asked too much of me— And yet, Your lips ask gently for mine. You just lean in, familiar and sudden, And kiss me like I'm the first sip of something you've missed all day. And in that moment— with food cooling, Emma was humming in the living room, My heart becomes warm— The world becomes only your lips on mine. The quiet of me being held in warm embrace. The reminder that I am not just a mom doing everything. I am still someone to be held. These are not just kisses. They are love anchors. Fireworks. Prayers answered in silence. They tell me I'm still wanted, even when I'm worn. Even here, in the kitchen.