The way you drew your body on mine
and looked at me like I was made of night.
I was reflected there,
in the stars of your eyes.
The way you still find
your way into every poem I write.
Your mouth always held my name.
You, who awakened the birds inside me.
If I could trace a path
back to you now,
I would find you in the clearing
where you first told me you loved me.
The night sky bright and unclouded,
the band playing music to a crowd,
captivating everyone but you and I.
The trees hugging us
from all sides, the ground,
pushing me higher.
I would say, Open your hand.
I would write a poem there.
and looked at me like I was made of night.
I was reflected there,
in the stars of your eyes.
The way you still find
your way into every poem I write.
Your mouth always held my name.
You, who awakened the birds inside me.
If I could trace a path
back to you now,
I would find you in the clearing
where you first told me you loved me.
The night sky bright and unclouded,
the band playing music to a crowd,
captivating everyone but you and I.
The trees hugging us
from all sides, the ground,
pushing me higher.
I would say, Open your hand.
I would write a poem there.