DMV Love

The patience of waiting in the DMV line is an angelic love of a Twin Flame.

An eight hour wait of patience where you don’t have the right papers and the clerk gives the wrong year you were born.

It is a kind thank you after a long day of endurance.

The two lines are excruciatingly long with people to see the wedding minister. One to make sure you are the proper person and the second the chance to see a minister.

Waiting for your number to pop up, you hope you don’t get the cranky priest at station one again.

It is the 40-year wait for the right person to come along after a dry period of unwed life.

A test of wills that endures the pain of boredom with looking at your phone.

It is a sly smile when a perfectly curved tall blonde woman doesn’t have the right paperwork.

A twin fate of doom.

Finally, after the long, arduous road you get the license with a picture of you half-smiling and looking beleaguered.

A commitment of time that you endured the test of cranky pants one and two.

You put the license in your Chinese wallet and think Freedom and Love once again rules the day.

 

 

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