Our tale is one of a love

for vows; for stubbornness in the face

of dismay. A love for playing

the long game, meanwhile

the wrong loyalty cards close to our chest,

hard to get into someone’s hands by the rules.

Learning by ear to love slipping

your feet into the same pair of

dice for 16 years.
I love the way you drag yourself

to face the tragedy and clowns at work,

the scene at home, the mirror critic;

the way you ache

to do what’s right when integrity has left the building;

the way you light up with someone else

who points you to your soul, when I am not

a glowing review – I never wanted you to love me

more than truth; more than becoming yourself.
My love for you is armoured up

against lickbait with its poison envelope;

for batting the odds, the leaving tide.

My love for you is in the raw

places that you peel, to peer, to mend;

is furrowed fog light,

backstage diamonds,

faithfulness to colouring

inside the lines of these two wedding rings.