Az the Husband, on His Birthday

Some days I think we have learned everything there is to know about each other, and our life together is unremarkable comfort, solid but undramatic.

Other days, rare ones, something, a trick of the light or his stance or the way he holds our daughter, catches me, and suddenly, he is 31-years-old again, the tall, black-bearded stranger with the broad shoulders and intense gaze.

He throws off sparks. He brings the color to the room.

So familiar, so comfortable, but still a stranger, just out of reach and worthy of pursuit. My own Teumessian fox.