a pretty long time ago,
i told you i’d sold myself
on the notion of marriage;
how funny, how funny,
to think of the nights
in that blue store
sided gold/and Polly
telling us it’s okay to
talk a bit between shifts,
so long as the patrons
don’t seem to mind;
forgot the days you spent
driving to me for an hour
and all the times i came home
to warm supper, given with Love,
given with Love.
you always and often told me
that He knows where we need to be,
no matter the day, no matter
the ex-periences of past lives;
i always and often believed you,
holding on to those ideals we
always laughed at before we saw
how hard a life worth living takes
to realize.
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