You are my perfect conversation,
and the kind of cool that overwhelms.
I would bleed my toenails purple,
make countless typos or bald my hair empty
just to have your babies.
I wish you’d hear the builders, and
the cats when they moan, and my heart.
You see, they remind me of you.
The early mornings and late nights of you.
Some days I hug my pillows,
trace the edges of their covers,
and smile imagining they were your skin.
Through a window in this part of the world,
if I only had fifteen lines, what can I say?
You are my fifteen lines.
Happy 15th ♥! 66
