The Third

I realized, that I'm in love with you.

I love you.
More certainly than I've ever been in love before-
(I've only ever been in love twice.)
That makes you "Three", but you're the only
One I could ever associate with "marry".
When it comes to that, I can't see past you, &
honestly, your the first I've ever even considered.


I toy with the idea sometimes, when I drift:

     into daydreams
     out of my mind
     on to tangents of the heart

that start with thoughts of breakfast. Writing. Art. Smoking. Chinese food. Bicycles. Bass. My heartbeat. My heart beats faster (and slower) around you. You. You & me. You & me on a front porch. We're smiling in our chairs & watching the world spin as we rock. We're old. But, now, we're so young. Am I allowed to think that far ahead? Well, sometimes I do anyway... Like when you smile at me with your eyes; bluer than a crystal ball- it's no wonder I can imagine my future in them.


I see all the adolescent innocence in your smile;
though you claim none remains in you,
when we look into each other.
Brief moments when your soul sparkles through
the cracks in the play-doh walls
of the childhood fort you'd built
around your heart.
You took down the sign
"No girls allowed" long ago,
but the walls still stand, just for show.


You may be my Third Love,
but I fear this Third
is not the charm.
We have too many plans
for things to come,
& come undone
with the potential compromise of
wandering hearts.

And yet, still...
I know in some lifetime,
we're perfect.

c.marie