Jan. 2, Kiley

August and I are perfect together.
Two souls bonded as one.
Nothing can tear us apart.
But there is one little thing
That gets us every time.

Fighting

Arguing

Blaming

Yes, like little kids, even
seniors play the blame game.
Over little things, too.
Who drove the car our of gas
and didn't refill it.
Who's to blame for failed
study nights, resulting in
worse than good grades.

But those nights that we
spend alone together are
our silent apologies.
Most of the time, that
doesn't mean make-up sex.

It means lieing in the bed of
his truck in a field, staring up
at the stars. It means pointing
out the brightest star, and spotting
the shooting stars we set our
wishes upon. It means, to me,
love.