Twenty Years Later

They say I love you because you are perfect for me.

I wonder

would I love you the same

were your eyes with less sparkles,

would I love you

were your locks less curled,

would I love you

were your hands less careful?

They say you love me because I am perfect for you.

I wonder

would you love me

was my heart less indignant by injustice,

would you love me

were my words less well-chosen,

would you love me

were my tears less secret?

The same as them, we believed this delusion.

We thought we were perfect for each other

with bodies that fit,

and values that click,

with intertwined dreams,

two kids in blue jeans.

Twenty years later

we know we are not perfect for each other.

We never were.

We were just curious,

curious to see

who we would become

if we treated each other with love.

Twenty years later

less collagen, more wrinkles,

we have bodies that fit,

and values that click,

and intertwined dreams,

two grown-ups in blue jeans.

Photo by Everton Vila on Unsplash