Eight.
I see us all over the house.
But not in our photos
or in our clothes.
I see us in the pairs.
I see us in the shoes,
In the socks,
chopsticks
and
corn holders
I see us in the brita pitcher and the filter,
In mismatched shoe-laces,
cufflinks
and
earings
I see us in Rootbeer and Vanilla ice cream
In a sundae with extra butterscotch
Pickles and peanut butter
and
netflix and chill
I see us in cups and saucers
In a pair of dice
Raindrops and lightning
and
Both your eyes rolling when I shop too much.
I see us in my thumbs
When you say
"Who loves me, baby?"
And I point them back at myself and laugh
"This girl does."
This girl does.