Someday-mate

When I am in an idle state of mind and I think of my someday-mate, I think

I shall have a poet, one who shall whisper words into my skin

Or

I shall have a singer, one who shall serenade the world with our love

Or

I shall have a writer, one who will paint drafts on my skin

In slow-fading henna ink, drawn with soft calligraphy pens

But when I am in the solid world, I think

I’ll have a mathematician who will be as excited as I am by new proofs

Or

I’ll have a marketer who will understand when I say that science needs presentation to spread

Or

I’ll have an economics major who will discuss policy with me

Whose mind will cut through airy “should”s and show the statue in the marble

But then

I don’t think I would ever be happy with just one

I think

I shall have a mathematician who writes equations on my skin

And

I shall have a writer who understands the importance of presentation

And

I’ll have love

and

I shall love