Number 100

My Darling, My Love, My Everything, This is Number One Hundred. I told you that I’d reach it, and I have. This will be a long one, But I hope it says everything it needs to, I hope ink lands quicker than tears. This whole century of writing is for you, You own every penny in this poetic pound, So at this literary boiling point, I want you to know That a century is just the start; I’ll write for you for millennia to come. That a pound is small change; I want to make you rich. That Hell, high water, hot water, can do their worst; this love will endure. This is the truth that all can see, But only you will ever know, Will ever truly know, The eternal honesty I write about. And these numbers: 126 1071 8 25 17 100 Only mean anything to you and I and us alone. Love in numerical exclusivity. Let me count the ways… You may be one man, but one is all that this one needs, Or maybe even just a half, as long as you have half of me. So know that this is a milestone, A reminder of what’s yet to come, A promise for longevity, A poem for you to read and believe, A poem for you. Number One Hundred. You have my heart, and I love you.