Poetry. 3 minutes to read.
The Game of Cat and Mouse
We grew up playing,
With different partners,
Hiding and kissing in my parents’ house,
Isn’t what we play today.
We’re far from adolescent charades.
True beauty’s grip is a riptide
With its own seafaring mind,
Pulling you deep below, inside.
Don’t fight the current, let it flow.
We’re something you have to have,
Not a second half, but an extra half,
Stronger than whole,
Because we told ourselves so, and we knew it:
Once we found our fit, we’d never let go.
To the years of our lives that glow,
Dedicated to misadventures in the snow,
And sand beneath our toes,
We’ll follow the road wherever it goes,
Knowing: it’s not the place that matters,
But the going that’s bold.
Our time will stand forever,
As cherished reveries,
Sheltered from life’s capricious weather,
Like a covered page of poetry,
Or a first date at the Griffith Observatory.
This is our anniversary.
Your presence is all that matters.
In the present, we’ll share a thousand togethers.
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