You know I write my love songs
and my poems
when everything feels wrong
when there's pain
I feel it all
it makes my skin crawl
into a ball of unwritten words
I must let fall onto paper

So I sit here and I feel bad
that every note pad isn't about you
it's about him or her
and love and other blurs
but never about you
and all your hues

I want to explain why
if I may
You and I
Red and purple
passionate and secure
deep and for real
you have never made me feel
pain
never made me kneel
or strain
you have always been
my place
my home
the one who will never roam

I think that's beautiful
but maybe I need to say it more
write about you on the floor
write about our love on every door
but I only seem inspired to write
while crying on the floor

You have never left me bruised
or sore
never left me seeking more
we are together
in perfect harmony
it's never a bore
You and me are
as Taytay said
Forevermore

So I write this poem to you
my best friend
my sister
my soul mate
and my favorite person
I love you
and I think you know
every day with you
to me is like
dancing in the snow

FOR THE ONE
 
Love is a game, a journey of sorts,
a search for the one who is right.
 
And of all the seekers, just what do they know,
are not all just travelers at night?
 
For it seems in darkness they search hill and dale,
hoping to find their true love.
 
Awash in the masses, a literal throng,
mixed in amongst push and shove.
 
And so, as you seek for to find it you must,
consider what true love's about.
 
It's not about finding who you can live with…
but who you cannot live without.

The sun is shining,
The bees are buzzing,
The laps of water gently break against the shoreline,
And for once all three dogs are gentle and still.

Time marches ever forward,
Collapsing the waveform of our reality,
Testing our love,
But never breaking it.

After 11 years you'd think I would have learned something.
I'm not sure that I have.
When Love is perfect in the beginning,
Doesn't it stand to reason it would be perfect in the end?

And yet, the end is neither nigh nor seen,
For when perfection begins and ends,
What could possibly be in the middle,
If not a more perfect perfection realized?

Our Love may be perfect,
Never boring,
Always changing,
Yet unyielding.

11 years ago we made a decision,
That forever changed our lives,
For the better,
As today I'm only jelly and you are clearly my peanut butter.

A match made in heaven?
A match made on Earth?
Nay.
A match made for our souls.

Soulmates and soulmatages.
Beebros and beebees.
Our little family, the best one,
Is a microcosm of the Universe trying to understand itself.

So what have I learned all this time?
That I have never learned to love you.
I just do.
So far and for now and probably forever.

Happy 11 years my love.
Will you for to be continued to be married to me?

A bold density of memory anchors,
scattered across a past
where colour saturates
like someone sat on the remote control,
holy hand grenades on loose afternoons
with the slap and bicker of passing the joypad
in blithe ignorance of washing piles
deadlines and empty pockets

Drifting in the now, helium light,
well-heeled but drab,
absent fingers trace the slight links
on the line around arthritic ankles
as they gently, surely give

I want someone that respects my opinion,; and not just my right to have one.
I want someone who stands by me; despite any differences of opinion.
I want someone who trusts me to make all sorts of mistakes.
I want someone that doesn't need me to understand.
I want somebody that looks me in the eyes as we ****.
I want someone that's respects my right to say no it's not for me.
I want someone who is polite; and not rude or unkind.
I want love & reassurance, reducing any risk that's frightening.
I want loyalty and someone who also seeks, this basic remit.

Is this too much to ask of anyone?