There are two pairs of shoes by the door -
one pair is clean and the other is covered in leaves and mud.
There are two voices in the kitchen -
one is singing and the other is laughing.
Both are tinged with tender love and adorned with happiness.

There are two pairs of socked feet going up the staircase -
one is confident in their stride and the other is stumbling with drunkenness.

Drunk on love, of course.

There's one voice that can be heard in the darkness of the bedroom -
a voice that says something along the lines of, You look beautiful.

There's a shy laugh. As always, the second voice will follow. You can't even see me.

Both voices will become one when they breathe into each other, disappear into one another. There won't be anything in the world that can distinguish them. They've always been the same, after all.