We’re two dancing feet. We’re return train tickets. We’re wheels on a bike. We’re spare shoelaces. We’re two lost ducklings. We’re budget sunglasses. We’re backpack straps. We’re a double-yolk egg. We’re bookends. We’re 2 for the price of 1. We’re two jigsaw pieces. We’re two big sneezes in a row.

We’re two campfires raging despite the rain. We’re the good pair of scissors in the drawer. We’re two pillowcases left outside to dry. We’re the two coins found in the sofa. We’re the last two matches in the box. We’re the first two eggs to hatch. We’re the drumsticks bashing out a power ballad. We’re two nails holding up a painting. We’re the two points that won the game. We’re two keys jingling in a pocket. We’re two envelopes falling through the letterbox. We’re the chopsticks left in the bowl. We’re the open beak of a feeding bird.

We’re two pint glasses drying upside down on the draining board. We’re the two Christmas tree lights that never work. We’re the last two petals to fall from the bouquet. We’re the two minutes to go before the alarm goes off. We’re two leaves that blew through the open door before it swung shut. We’re the two ornaments missing from the shelf. We’re the jumpers they use for goalposts. We’re nightclub turntables with a mixer in between. We’re the front and back covers of a magazine. We’re two grains of uncooked rice that missed the pan. We’re two twisted cigarette stubs in the ashtray. We’re two raindrops racing each other down the window. We’re two mismatched socks that have been paired somehow. We’re two weeds growing up through the driveway. We’re two reserved seats at a restaurant. We’re the two drips that come out the tap when it’s turned off.

Be with me. No one else.


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