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.

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