I open the book.
The first word reads,
"Destined."

Afraid,
I turn the page,
And I rest into restless text.

Lines and curves
Come together
Making the letters
That make the words
That make you, and
I start to fall in love with your adjectives.

As the story writes,
This astonishment I have of you
Was inevitable.

"𝘛𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘺 𝘪𝘴 𝘮𝘺 𝘮𝘶𝘴𝘦." 𝘐 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘬 𝘵𝘰 𝘮𝘺𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘧.

As I read on,
Collected shapes
Come together
Forming the symbols
That create the words
That tell the story
Of what it's like for us to touch.

Seamless sentences
Flow through the pages
Floating our love
Down the river that is
This book.

This story is not for the faint of heart.
For there are rapids,
Rocks,
And falls
Along the way.

There are even times
When we both tried
To write ourselves
Right off the page.

But every time,
The pen just comes around to the other side of the paper.

"𝘐 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴. 𝘐'𝘷𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘦." 𝘐 𝘱𝘰𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘐 𝘤𝘢𝘳𝘳𝘺 𝘰𝘯.

Our love,
It separates and
Circulates before it
Gravitates us
Back together again.
And again.

Realizing now that this book is a constant.
That we've been written into the same story.
That we float down the same river.

And even when it
Splits in two
And I can't see you
I don't worry,
Because I know you're just
Some pages over,
Writing a part
Of your story.

"𝘐 𝘴𝘸𝘦𝘢𝘳 𝘐'𝘷𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘣𝘰𝘰𝘬 𝘣𝘦𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘦." 𝘐 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘸𝘰𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘵𝘶𝘮𝘣𝘭𝘦 𝘰𝘯...

They talk about the times
When I couldn't find you
In the same chapter.

Periods when your name
Had not been seen next to mine
For so long,
I thought maybe
You found a way
To get the pen
Off the page.

Then just as I would
Conquer my rapids
And approach a place of calm,
Out of no where
You would float along.
And just like that
It felt like
You were never even gone.

United we float,
Our names in tow
Each with a pen
On the page
And a row
In the boat.
Writing the story that writes us.

"Where does this river go?"
You ask. And suddenly,
I know.

"This is where we have been headed along."

We silently drift to the end.
But the water does not fall,
Instead,
The river runs into a rising sky.
Flowing ribbons of crystal lace.
This is our meeting place.
We have been here once before.

Have we been enough?

Two souls,
With a thousand stories
Lived and told.

A thousand timeless masterpieces.

"𝘐 𝘳𝘦𝘮𝘦𝘮𝘣𝘦𝘳 𝘯𝘰𝘸." 𝘐 𝘴𝘢𝘺,
"𝘛𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘺 𝘩𝘢𝘴 𝘣𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘵𝘰𝘭𝘥 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘵𝘰 𝘸𝘦𝘭𝘭."
And that is when her heart began to swell.

Ancient stories locked
In our DNA, released
Into the universal sea.
And finally,
She could see
All the lessons
That she needs
To at last
Complete
Her healing.

𝗦𝗵𝗲 𝗴𝗹𝗼𝘄𝗲𝗱 𝗶𝗻 𝘃𝗶𝗯𝗿𝗮𝗻𝘁 𝗴𝗿𝗲𝗲𝗻.

And so it seems,
Our fountains are filled
With masterpieces
Lived and killed.
We will move into eternity.
This I know certainly.

𝙔𝙤𝙪 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙄 𝙝𝙖𝙫𝙚 𝙗𝙚𝙚𝙣 𝙚𝙣𝙤𝙪𝙜𝙝.

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