This weekend I was supposed to be heading off to the midlands for my parents' anniversary party. Unfortunately I can't make it due to work commitments. So, to honour the occasion from afar, here is an unprecendented, and probably ne'er to be repeated, burst of sentimentality. Cynics look away now!
Love doesn't come from perfection,
From symmetry and shine,
The shimmer of unworn silk
Or that fast-decaying bloom.
It's knowing with eyes tight shut
The line of your lifted brow.
It's being surprised every time
By the thing that makes you laugh.
Love isn't found in perfection,
In the gloss of the bright unused.
It's the dearness of the familiar
And the sudden rush of the new.
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