ARE WE?

Not that I want answers
to a relationship 
that seems to flex 
to meet our erratic selves -
so moody and unpredictable
so based on imperfection -
but our sidelong glances ask
are we the ones?
Are we cosy bed, pillows and sheets?
Are we cuddle, kiss, curl and sleep?
Will you wipe the dishes while i wash?
Roll out the dough while i flip?
Peeping over my shoulders - 
our quadrupled vision.
Will it be our laughter that will break the silence
of a dark night, startling the owl
and drawing stars closer?
I won’t let the outside world in -
will you?
I can’t walk away - 
can you?
At will, I ask you:
will we be the ones?
‘cause right now, as we are,

our fingers barely touching - 
a relationship on a shoestring budget
of superficial small talk
skimming surfaces...
How far must we go before we know
we're forever?