i've been practicing my cursive lately
just to impress you.
i trace those soft o's and l's
while i contemplate how, exactly,
to convince you to follow me to amazing places
for us both to see.
the i's rise like mountains, ending in a small curve
when you bring me back to earth
just to remind me that there's no need to count pebbles or dunes.
you're my ground, anyway.
i trace soft x's,
marking one on my lips,
another on my heart.
i hum to myself, some of those songs.
the ones we learned from each other.
one change in tempo,
one more letter,
one more star that reminds me of how your arms
are my home now.
not the universe.
one tap of the foot,
one more woman speaking
of Michelango.
no, forget that, please.
that is not what i meant at all.
one soft piano track,
one more love letter lodged in my mailbox.
two voices echo a voice,
a chorus,
a heart whispering
"tell me all your secrets."
three explosions,
two hands,
one resting softly in another.
four small smirks exchanged over a cafe table.
one utterance of
"life goes fast,
i'm glad i've met you so early."
