Given the role chaos inevitably plays in the inherently flawed notion of fate,
It’s obstruce to deduce (that) I found my soul mate at the age of 17,
It’s just mathematically unlikely that at a University in Perth,
I happened to stumble on the one girl on Earth specifically designed for me,
And if I may conjecture (without?) further objection,
Love has nothing to do with destined perfection,
The connection is strengthened,
The affection simply grows over time like a flower, or a mushroom, or a guinea pig, or a vine, or a sponge, or bigotry…or a banana,
Love is made more powerful by the ongoing drama of shared experience,
And the synergy of a kind of symbiotic empathy or…something…
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