Ten Things My Soulmate Should Know (2nd Version)

A ring’s just
a thing, of silver
or gold,
but you’re the diamond
that weathers my
semi-violent
shine.

There may
come a day I must
face my old flames,

(yes, possibly in
a row or nine).

They’re pit stops
on road trips, passengers
dropped off wherever their
own wind takes them.

They were never meant to
last by pure design.

The story of us is the best stroke of luck I’ve had in love’s lottery, while failed numbers followed me, ripped ticket to odds. And you’re the good sport I’m not, so maybe I ought to stop flushing money down the drain.

Your presence is perfect, even if
the spot it chose to occupy
is a couple steps to
the left of flaw.

The kiss on
my jawline is
a pause to my day,
where everything halts
to consider the sway you
hold over
space and time.

And our
children won’t break bread
with hunger other than
finding their voice,
the only things broken
rogue toys
in the dark.

For better or worse, the number of bills in your purse are never my denominator, and our opposite Makers will never influence

my faith.

Your heart is
my maester, mine’s health in
your hands,

remedies barely
pronounceable
but
the medicine
slows my
loss in translation.

Mason of
my stone circulation
I’m yours to
shape;

through maddening
winters, raging
storms,

because you’re the
score of
a lifetime,
the only return to
form I’ll

ever need
appropriate.

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