“I hope I mean as much to you as you do to me.”

A memorial of stone like polished ash Covered with a memory from the past With vibrant paint strokes of two others of the present Whispering many secrets to the universe Hoping it may understand A brittle bench with black brass railings And old chipped paint that can no longer be deciphered Holds up the trust between the two Who have dropped memories like loose change at its feet As if the cracked pavement were a wishing well Two lonely but content maroon leather chairs With rips and busted stitching   Erupting from the seams with exuberant joy With moments that have been stuffed into the cushions As if a  time capsule that mustn't be discovered A library clogged delighted with books And years old stories Guarding precious happiness And our adventures imprinted on the walls Like a fortress with aisles upon aisles of universes acting as guardians Filled with moments that can’t be forgotten Colored with laughter spilling every which way Ringing in the small nook Hidden behind aisles of books There’s something beautiful about a shared secret That was growing and knocking against one’s chest like a prisoner