I like everything about this

I like how the barista knows my name and my drink by heart.

I like the way the cold air licks my earlobes, 

and the serpentine patterns of white sand 

scurrying across the black pavement

I like the way a monkeys gaze

reminds me of my grandfather's pensive eyes;

I like those too. 

I like the way your eyes purse kisses 

when they delight in small poems 

written on the underside of high clouds. 

I like everything about this.