Dedicated to: You know who you are.

I would never want to
“make love” to you,
because quite frankly
I still overcook water,
and googled ingredients
could never satiate
your senses senselessly
like rain in Serengeti,
like hot mocha lattes
during cold fronts,
like Oreo McFlurries,
my backup copy of The Notebook
when your player swears
yours is “scratched,”
like nonjudgmental ears
after breakups,
the solace in hugs
when the softness of my t-shirt
becomes your favorite excuse
to be close and,
like the way I hold you
as if you were deliverance
to love held hostage.

But I do know
that your aroma
is heaven’s scent.
So let’s commence from there:
with 2 hearts of loyalty and charity,
4 armfuls of forgiveness and comfort,
generous handfuls of
gentleness and tenderness,
an eyeful of passion and
and two minds of trust
that’ll never question
our sincerity,
yet appreciate
our sarcasm.

Then, we’ll beat the badder,
the rough edges
from our smiles;
stir in the joy
with humor
and serve
with warmth,
and a friendship
worth sharing the recipe of
to our future,
so we’ll never forget
how to become love
before rushing to make
a version that’d ruin us.


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