Perfect Fit

I would like you to know that I would love you seven lifetimes and never get tired to

see your perfect face. I would like you to know that it takes seven of us, here, seven

separate minds to sort through and pick and choose all the adjectives that describe

you. There are seven people I could have and you are not only the first, but the

second and third and every number in between you, me, and seven. Perhaps it is

merely chance that you were born seven squared days after I was. Perhaps it is

coincidence that you fold into my arms perfectly like an old dollar bill.

I can’t help but ponder why, just why is it that your body matches my arms. I think

we were chiseled from the same stone, the same old rock, and then separated. They

worked their way up from that bottom so that I could have more time holding you

where you were made, holding you so close that we transcend space and time and

go on to exist entirely alone.

You know, we were once one, you and I. Our bodies blended so magnificently that it

is hard for me to suppress the urge to wonder about our lips… Could they fit so

perfectly, too? Would they fit so perfectly if you kissed me, and if I held you, would

we fit together like jigsaw pieces, like spoons?

I know they could, they would, but they won’t. For all that is good does not come to

pass, even if all the parts fall into place.

Posted on February 13th, 2008 at 10:43pm


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