a muse in the making

She reads her magazines and news papers on the floor... laying on her stomach...
 

She walks around barefooted and always says her feet are cold...

She will not wear her glasses or contacts and squints to see everything too far away...
 

She collects books of puzzles... and tries hard... but... she has never finished a puzzle...

She talks to the television screen and makes loud comments when she reads the papers... mostly about how stupid people are...
 

She orders the same food every time we go out to eat...
 

She takes me on long walks around Valparaiso... after dinner... and makes up stories about events that never happened in some places... like the stories I invent about places I have never seen...
 

She loves dogs... but doesn’t want to keep one...
 

She gets emotional over babies... and says she wants a big family...
 

She loves to visit big cities... but needs to be close to nature...
 

She loves to go sailing... but the sea actually frightens her...
 

She is thin and delicate and very, very feminine...
 

She can talk for quite a long time about whatever is on her mine... and there have been days when we never said a word...
 

She sits at the edge of the tub and watches me shave in the morning... but she is to scared to shave me...
 

She stresses the importance of after noon naps... I couldn’t agree with her more...
 

She doesn’t ask about my business... she says it is not important... but I know that it really is...
 

She is practical and uncomplicated... so far... and she says I think too much and am way too complex...
 

She handles my perversions and insanity quite well...
 

She looks out at the sea and she looks like she wants to cry behind her smile...
 

She gets excited by the rain... and the thought of snow... and thunder and lightning...
 

She dances for me in the study... not very good... but I like it...
 

She bakes cookies... and cakes... and we have been known to eat cookies and cake for breakfast...
 

She can not hold her wine... and tries to seduce me when she drinks too much... but she just ends up passing out in my arms...
 

She doesn’t like going to bed alone... and she does not like waking up without me there...
 

She looks great without make-up... but I have never told her...
 

She wears my shirts and my boxers around the house and not much else...
 

She makes love slowly... on top of me... and stays there for a long time when she has finished with me...
 

She whispers my name at night... as we lay in the darkness before we fall asleep... and when I respond to her and say  - yes, baby... she just sighs and moves in closer to me... and settles in for the night...
 

She leaves letters and photos of her in my bag when I have to travel... so when I find myself feeling alone in North America... I will remember that she is waiting for me in Valparaiso... and I miss her...