Close your eyes and extend your arms
I made them for you and they are full of charms
My heart started tossing and turning
As the thoughts of you kept me up at night yearning
Did you bring a bag or something? Do you have a stacking up technique in mind?
Or do you feel it’s better to snuggle them gently in your body, heart and mind?
How many are there? You ask me in surprise!
Well just about two dozen and five
For this is the age you will stand up and rise
Do you think your curiosity shall survive?
One is the look I give you each morning when the bed sheets whisper lullabies, the cats are purring in corners and the sun plays hide’n’seek with the clouds
Two are my arms meeting yours in the warmest embrace of them all that will protect us from any fall
Three second smiles given and stolen in moments when we are both choose to be playing grown-ups rather than plain ones
Four in our catilicious family until now, but you never know which one’s a cat and which one’s a man
Five minutes of cuddling each night before we fall asleep snoring in our own symphonic duo
Six pence none the richer and the universe’s secrets in the palm of your hand
Seven days a week of companionship, friendship and midnight counting of sheep
Eight glances exchanged when the world outside is too busy to notice us
Nine well-applied pinches needed to remind you that in deed you, fortunately enough, are not dreaming
Ten thousand miles north south east and west to ride until the end of time and beginning of life
Eleven runes on my back let you know every time you see them about who I really am
Twelve o’clock at midnight for sketching mighty plans in the air with our fingertips
Thirteen times granted for you to explain again and again how should the laundry be put to dry
Fourteen cities for us to visit far and wide, smiling and laughing together side by side
Fifteen years old teenager moods with ups and downs and Mary-go-rounds
Sixteen songs sang in the shower like a howling lone wolf searching desperately for the full moon
Seventeen rays of sunlight into broad daylight for your very own delight
Eighteen endorphins stashed in our secret safe place kicking in when you need them the most
Nineteen century scholastic tete-a-tetes about life, death, meaning and brain cleaning
Twenty blades of grass comforting our heavy hearts and concrete looks of Friday afternoons
Twenty-one sighs flying up high whenever one of us badly needs to unwind
Twenty-two first meals which don’t taste so good, but have inside them all my love for you
Twenty-three, you, me and a cozy place to celebrate the time passed and the moments to come
Twenty-four hours in a day to live, breathe, overreact, reenact and make a ‘Please, tell me when I’m being a bitch/jerk!’ pact
Twenty-five hairs on the back of my neck defying gravity when you sweep me off my feet with a passionate kiss
Twenty-six photos taken right when the artistic blood rushes to your visionary cuckoo head
Twenty-seven Cambridge New Year’s resolutions, wandering wishes, hippie hopes and dangling dreams
Twenty-eight happy wrinkles on my face when you defuse the tense air saying ‘I made funny!’
Twenty-nine more years of discovering the rest of you that is waiting for you around every corner you turn…