The first thing that comes to mind is poetry
I write that down
It is an exercise
It is an excuse
The ink catches at the edges of the letters
as I remember what you once told me
You wished my penmanship was a font
This is when I began telling you
that I love you
And every time you leave the room
you say
Me too
(stanza break)
I fell in love with this poem in an instant
before I knew
it even existed
It was always here
waiting for me to catch it at its quick edges
And I remember the time I told it
I am going to write tonight: thank you
Me, the muse, and my writing table
have moved in here
Forgetting we had ever been misplaced
My page
Our home
2 comments:
yes. yes. yes.
~ very nice..
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