I won’t ask you to be mine
Because you already are
Just like I am yours.

 

True, no one ever looks at us
And thinks, soul-mates.
Their narrow-minded eyes
Cannot see beyond
Conventional definitions
Gifted to them years ago.

 

For I’m
The ladybird you’re the butterfly
Divided by species
By ground and air.
And yet we both love
And are loved for
Our multi-coloured rags.

 

For you’re
The fried mozarella stick
To my mint chutney
Coming from oceans apart
And making mouths water.

 

For I’m
Zelda to your Scott
We’ll destroy each other
If we’re less than five
Hundred metres apart.
But not before creating
Some transcending art.

 

I won’t ask you to be true
We have to laugh at this
Childish naiveté.
Binding loyalty breeds despair
And we neither made to be bound.

 

I won’t ask you for anything
Any proof this world asks for love
Because this world cannot comprehend
The distance between us
And how we’re fused.

 

Photo by Daniele Levis Pelusi on Unsplash

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