I never believed in love at first sight
soul mates, destiny and all that stuff
but it’s true that there was something
that first time we met. And the second.
And the third. Fate or something kept
putting you in my path once we met.
And though I, unknowing, took a detour
off the road we’d set out upon, together,
you waited by the side until I
got my bearings, found my navigator,
pulled over to the side, and let you in.
There’ve been plenty of “for worses,” but
we needn’t talk about those. They have a way
of bringing themselves up. I want to focus
on the betters. All the little betters, not just
the big. The “you can have the last slice”
betters, and the way you say “I love you,”
every day, no matter what. And then there’s
the way your foot finds mine under the covers
and the way you still grab my behind,
in public, in private, any place and any time.
Everyday “for betters” count most.
I never promised you a rose garden.
We’d neither remember to water it anyway.
But I can remember these things,
and promise to, always, for better or for worse.
I can remember: the way your hair sticks up
in the morning. The taste of your expertly
made omelets. The sound of your laugh.
The not-too-hot, not-too-cold, just-right
warmth of your smile. And the way that
slow love lingers, and wins the race.
That’s something– that’s everything.