It all goes back to you,
not my first, but my foremost.
Just there in the background,
doing your thing and slowly
reaching out to me.
Wide open hands, bitten
yet clean nails,
strong and soft,
kindness for days,
a lifetime.
The peace you bring,
the love you feel.
Ay.
I was always a helpless
romantic,
still I am indeed,
a pinch of reality and disappointment,
yet here you are, now.
Love wasn't what I thought,
it builds up slowly from within,
first one, then you.
Hold my hand, side by side,
run with me, fight with me.
I never believed in perfection, and still
I don't.
Yet here you are now.
Imperfect, but perfect somehow.