A puzzle,
Missing spaces left empty ,
Filled over the years
By misshapen pieces.
Never fitting,
The corners too sharp
Or the edges too blurry.
You try different pieces,
Experimenting
Bending
Desperate to make them fit.
But in the end just
Leave cracks within the picture,
Deep cracks that
Fail to join your puzzle together.
You are a piece.
Slightly changed and worn
Over the years.
But we fit
My shape may be imperfect
Curves in strange places and
Unsymmetrical lines
But your edges complement
Mine.
If I could have your piece
Forever to snugly sit against my side
One of the spaces
Then my puzzle would be complete
And the world would marvel at
Our perfect picture.
