that time you decided to paint a portrait of us

i hang with you over our unused fireplace, framed in gold. i still remember the day you came home with it. the frame, i mean. how you folded the tag and told me it was gilded. i wouldn’t have minded that it's just plastic, but you said to me it was gold.

so i guess this is how we’ll be remembered, then. you with one hand on my knee, your other holding mine. me with my eyes on the ceiling, my smile tipped ever so slightly to the right. you sit on my left.

we’re beautiful. me, especially. you’ve filled in that one dimple i have. the one that comes out when i laugh. and my smile is so charming, isn’t it? i’ve never been able to get my real mouth to sit like that before. and i see you’ve colored my cheeks the way you wish i’d do. i look like a goddess. but at least you look like yourself. spot-on, really.

here’s to you, darling.