Only in dreams, I write you love letters.
Dot my I’s with tails,
Cross my t’s with curves.
Writing so slowly, to avoid errors that could smudge
Your heart, and wipe it away of the reason I write this.
And when the sun dips behind the mountains,
I’ll hold you tightly on our front porch,
Humble hands holding you,while we rock back and forth.
It doesn’t matter what we do,
It doesn’t matter where we go,
I don’t want to know anything but this.
When morning comes,
Let us walk these crooked lands until our legs tremble,
And frost coats our faces.
If my walk becomes limp,
And my worn sneaker slaps the shadowed road like a fart,
Just smile to yourself.
It was probably funny.
If our walk takes us to the heavens,
Let us go on detours.
Like the tip of a branch leading to its trunk,
We sway from the golden path,
There’s not enough excitement to keep our attention.
And if anything tries to divide us,
We will never be apart,
For in my memories
We’ll always walk these lands hand in hand.