You are the almost-silent
of my coffee-stained summer.
You are the clear and tender
plucking of guitar strings
on a lazy afternoon;

With sunlight streaming through
the painted window,
just bright enough to fill the room
but gentle enough to fall asleep to;

with the smell of everything we love—
caffeine and chocolate and banana muffins—
seemingly coursing through our veins
with every breath we take;

with the daydream of
what-could-be lingering
in the haze, in the silence
it sits,
it waits.

I proceed to the only thing
I know how to do
at this hour of day:
I stare at the cars passing by,
all the while wishing
I was staring at you instead.

one day
i'll know the softness
of your skin
and the strength of your bones.

you know i love you so,
even if i could never
have the courage
to say it.

All I have is a photograph
and a blank page with your name,
our lives have clearly changed,
but my heart still feels the same.

So I write down a few scattered lines,
and add a chord or two,
just trying to make new memories of you.

I'll play this song beneath the stars,
watch it dance into the sky.
If on the wind my words do fly,
then you'll hear my lullaby.

Will you look above and think of me
as a shooting star breaks through,
maybe words will make wishes come true.

Now I have a brand new page
with a picture, poem, and song.
I know it's been so long,
but my love's still standing strong.

If a picture paints a thousand words
then this poem will never do,
but I want to make new memories with you.