I’ll write for you a poem
that you can read from time to time.
A tale of how we could be,
in a world where you are mine.
We’d travel near and far, just us,
walking city blocks together.
Our feet could take us anywhere
and our hands would still be tethered.
The starlight could be blinding
as the sunshine fades away.
Just tell me what to write
and I’ll create anything you say.
I could write us into forever
if you let my mind run wild
I’d write us onto the tops of mountains
where we’d play just like a child.
I’d write us into all the wonders
that I’ve ever dreamt of seeing,
but the saddest part of writing
is that I can’t write you into being.
Autumn 