Love letter # 35
Is it not true that those who live in the sky long for the ground?
It could just be that I want you because you say no – because you are elsewhere.
But could it not also be your beauty; bursting like bullets through walls? Is that not the real reason?
For your eyes, they break me open – and resolve is house of cards.
I watch the way you walk by and all my fine ideas are so much breathing.
And the hint of your kiss is a killer – and I am flying. Or maybe falling.
This dream could be my signal – my parachute alarm – but I doubt it; because you make the madness right with your fingers.
And your painted mouth is a siren.