A Valentine’s Day Poem

Written at the request of a lonely (and lovely) friend

There's something to be said for
a single toothbrush by the sink;
a bath towel that knows, 
intimately,
a solitary body;
an existence where "What's for dinner?"
is an internal inquiry or
one that echoes off the walls without response.

There's a real benefit
to living of one's own accord;
to answering only to the
nagging, non-corporeal voice 
of self-judgment;
to being alone.

Just as there's something to be said for
a drain clogged with someone else's hair;
deodorant shared in a pinch;
having a second family 
whose birthdays and anniversaries,
grievances and opinions 
must be acknowledged.

Just as there's a real benefit
to sharing couch space;
to having a new set of needs to consider;
to coexisting.

Neither side of this coin
wins or loses;
it simply spins and falls and spins again. 
There is no value 
but that which is arbitrarily assigned.

Perhaps one form
feels harder, feels, 
by definition and by context, 
emptier. 
But eventually, 
we all come to know 
the sting, the elation, 
the plainest facts
of both.

There is something to be said
for love. 
And that is that 
it has no ruler. 
It is its own governance, 
and we all fall into place. 
Its absence or presence 
cannot be called into being, 
and it should not be misinterpreted as
a reflection of self. 
It, as we are, 
simply is.

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