It took ten steps
to find my ninth wonder;
but it wasn't a figure eight.
It never looks that great.
I may need all seven days
to figure out how to get back;
and I'm nowhere near together.
I'm a few cans from a six pack.
I never got that fifth chance.
The fourth one was for free.
From what I've gathered, I can see
why two stands between me and three.
We don't get along well;
so three stays away from me
because one is the loneliest
and three is company.
I spend most of my time
thinking about the number two.
That's my friend and confidant.
She's my favorite number, too.
She's was my first second glance.
She may be my last second chance.
She always gives me another pass
and puts extra cubes in my glass.
But still.....
I often fear
that I might be her first tear
or her last one.
I don't want my last flaw
to be the last straw.
It can't end like that.
That's way too raw.
I mean.....
Is it still love at first sight
if I got it on the first night?
Is she not first rate
if we slept together on the first date?
And what about me?
What if I find a three
that pulls her away from me?
Am I wrong for what I see?
I don't need five senses
to know I don't need five wives
and I'm not into climbing fences
to preserve what's left of nine lives.
If four is too square for me,
Would I take three the hard way?
Am I willing to avoid those six degrees
and still rest the seventh day?
I'm so far from completion.
I'm closer to deletion.
There's no degree of satiation
derived from problematic multiplication.
I can offer her cloud nine
to keep her from having to wonder
if my motives are defined
while I continue doing numbers.
I met her in the summer.
We've endured the winter;
but I have to check my math
if we will make it past December.
I'm far from a beginner.
I just resemble a cynic
because it's hard to find my center
when engaged in arithmetic.
At the end of this countdown
lies liberty or lock down.
She will smile or frown
contingent upon what comes around.
Even if it takes ten tries
and all nine of my lives,
I'll make sure that I'm not late.
She deserves that figure eight.
I can't get her to heaven;
but she will get that seven.
She deserves completion;
not the emptiness of depletion.
I don't need to mix
or try to juggle six.
I'm not stacking bricks.
I need not try to fix.
I just need to strive
and draw close to five stars.
Sometimes, it seems like I'm on mars;
but I'm not placed behind bars.
I want to give her much more
than the allotted four score.
I don't want forty years
if each day is filled with tears.
Every wholesome possibility
begins and ends with three:
A stronger she, a better me
and he who watches over we.
Two halves of one heart
should never remain apart
but everything begins with one.
That's where it has to start.
We are more than nickels and dimes.
We transcend space and time
with minds filled with wonder
and hearts brimming with numbers. <3
Written By: Devin Joseph Metz
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