One-Hundred Days

We collide like the clouds do, merging into one to clear the sun of its spotlighted ground. We block out the light coming from our hearts as they flood power into each other.

We collide like a head-on collision. Fast and spontaneous and beautiful.
Our bodies wrapping themselves around each other is something for a Picasso, my dear, and I will never take it for granted.

You are my missing piece, the way my curves fit into yours only amplifies this belief. I have missed you my entire life, longed for that heart to come along and wrap its arms around my own so perfectly with no spaces left between, no crooked embraces or haphazard tangles of limbs. We are perfect together, two puzzle pieces finally brought together from separate sides of an expansive box.

We kiss like the clouds collide, merging and becoming one each other. The lines between us blur, and I know that if I tried, I could not find where I ended and you began.
We block out the light coming from our hearts.
We come together, two puzzle pieces finally placed side-by-side.

You are the missing piece in my puzzle, the piece nestled right into the empty spot inside of my beating heart. You wrap your arms around me and fill the space left from so many others.

We kiss like the clouds collide, slowly, graceful.
We collide like a head-on collision; fast and spontaneous and beautiful.
We merge together, becoming one, melting into this puzzle that is our house, our town, our city, our state, our country, our world.
We merge together, and become a permanent piece of the puzzle being arranged slowly around us.

You are my missing piece.