by Mariela Flores ’23
You are not the other half of me.
You are not a better half of me.
You are not a nicer half of me.
You are not a half.
Love, you are the roots of old pine.
Love, you are a perfect cadence.
Love, you are the spine of my favorite books.
Love, you are the streaks of light that blind me while I drive.
Love, you are the color green.
How lucky are we, to coexist at the same time, in the same place, in the same life?
How lucky are we to have met each other, lost each other, and found each other again?
As we grow and move through this timeline I hope just one thing,
you will find me again, wherever we might begin.
As two wholes, two flames,
you & I.