Your birthday was the day we first were us,
And so for me it is a day twice blessed.
I celebrate my having you twice over:
First, that you are you, then that you're mine.
I never felt a love so free and fine,
So much of me that I am but a lover,
So rich and full to crowd out all the rest,
The me I was before I turned to us.
I am so joyful to be part of us,
To be at home with you and not a guest,
To celebrate this day and not another,
To share with you a common boundary line.
No comments:
Post a Comment