Preferences 

She stood in the store, I came through the door. I had answered her call, to meet at the mall. 

She looked with care afraid of my stare, my girl had just dyed her hair. 

 
And she says: 

 “I know that I look different today.  

Would you miss me if I went away?

 Do you still love me like you did yesterday?” 

And I replied:

 “My preference will only change as you do. 

You’re beautiful. Babe, I love You.” 
So we get married and a house of our own, and we get off work and both come home.

She pulls up her sleeve, says: “like it, please! I got tattooed, but please don’t leave.”

She utters:

 “I know that I look different today.  

Would you miss me if I went away?

Do you still love me like you did yesterday?” 
And I replied: 

 “My preference only changes as you do. 

You’re beautiful. My Love, I love You.” 
Then she has our kids and we raise them together. We both get old and look under the weather. 

I step to our room, where she stands in the mirror. She’s hiding a tear because age was her fear. 

She cries: 

 “I know that I look different today.  

Would you miss me if I went away?

 Do you still love me like you did yesterday?” 
And I replied: 

 “My preference has only changed as you do. 

You’re beautiful. Gorgeous, I love You.” 
I wake at her bedside, we’re tired and ill. We both have already turned in our will.

With breakfast in bed I kiss her forehead, and hold her hand tightly to show what’s been said.

She whispers: 

 “I know that I look different today.  

Will you miss me when I go away?

Will you still love me like you did yesterday?” 
And I reply: 

 “My preference has always changed as you do. 

You’re beautiful. My Hero, I love You.” 
Written May 20th, 2017, for Cassie Marie, from Travis Jantzer