Eleven days since first night.
Seeing us together, you'd guess
As many years.

We compare scars from previous
Love; burns, cuts, disappointments.
Always sneaking a

Peek at the other, looking for
Signs we've promised our broken
Hearted yesterselves

To look out for. Both rather getting
Scratched right now than
Amputated tomorrow.

These are the blind days; the milk-
And-honey contrast to meat and
Potatoes.  

Grown up and grounded,
All we know is that we glitter, and
Test nuggets with sceptical teeth;

Hoping to God and whomever that
We're both plain good to
The other, and not just

Too to
Be
True.