(no subject)
I love you, softly spoken and rhyming with nothing but the tap- tap-trapping sound of rain on the roof (where I go walking, skipping air under my skin to blow up and away). Picked up a brush and painted you fresh earth colours, rich purple and sudden orange (paint in my hair and on my tongue until you tasted the right shade), picked the grass out of your hair and said, "I saved you a seat in the back of my mind, but the theatre's yours if you want it." Said, "you don't need to drive, you can catch my breath instead" and swallowed distances like asprin to thin the pressure of meeting your look.
I have opened my window, and love comes in clattering and big wings flapping, lifting the dust.
Said, "two birds who fly with the same wings through different skies"
or: one hand and the other, separate and then connected in applause for the small, beautiful things.