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There came a day, seems long ago,

though it was not so long, I know.

The old saying is "If you hear hoofbeats, think horses rather than zebras."

We hid a secret that was the same

for both of us, and hid the pain.

But…what if it’s a zebra?

It’s funny, to the point of lame,

that we forgot we are the same.

Or would you talk yourself out of it, because you can’t believe you could ever see a zebra?

Now in our box, which has become

a joyful place of warmth and sun.

What if you wanted it to be a zebra? What if, in your heart, you needed it to be a zebra?

All’s not always as it seems,

and there’s a reason for some dreams.

Would you pretend to not even see the occasional flash of stripes at the edges of your vision, thinking they could only exist in your dreams and wishes?

We know each other’s hearts, you see;

somehow I’m you; somehow you’re me.

What if you could only hope and pray that you would do no harm as you turn around, and, expecting to see a horse through eyes that are blurry and wet…

if the situation requires time,

it matters not when two hearts rhyme.