The beginning
for us was rough.
I've pondered
times aplenty
if my choices were
right.
Well, looking at us now.
I'd say it was.

You weren't perfect.
Perfectly pretty or
perfectly kind,
But then again, nor am I.
You are just, simply,
who you're meant to be.
And that's perfect enough
for me.

My purpose to rise
every morn, became just
to see your voice;
hear your touch;
feel your laugh —
to be ever present besides.

Values in dissent
is never an indication
for whether we are
— evermore —
fated.
We'll only lose
if always we seek
Perfection.
a fantasy
from one another.

We oft neglect
that which shines above.
We are blinded instead
our focus; shrouded
Fret not
For here I am.
Look -
I am yours