I have a very big Crush on you
but sAdLy I am only a littlE Bug
and you are a garden

Whose woods these are I think I know.
His house is in the village, though;
He will not see me stopping here
To watch his woods fill up with snow.

My little horse must think it queer
To stop without a farmhouse near
Between the woods and frozen lake
The darkest evening of the year.

He gives his harness bells a shake
To ask if there is some mistake.
The only other sound’s the sweep
Of easy wind and downy flake.

The woods are lovely, dark, and deep,
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.

Robert Frost (1874 - 1963)
Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening
Whose woods these are I think I know.
His house is in the village, though;
He will not see me stopping here
To watch his woods fill up with snow.

My little horse must think it queer
To stop without a farmhouse near
Between the woods and frozen lake
The darkest evening of the year.

He gives his harness bells a shake
To ask if there is some mistake.
The only other sound’s the sweep
Of easy wind and downy flake.

The woods are lovely, dark, and deep,
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.

Here, In the brightening forest,
only the fleeting stars can see me

The newborn air I breathe
bathes me in safety and I

Bloom, forget, and
ebb into meditation.

oh look
a deer;

maybe if i'm quiet

stars flow through these leaky pipes
& i'm starting to wonder if the tattoos
on your back
are starting to face
or are the yellow lights
in our rooms
are just dimming down
maybe you should try drawing
on my wrists
again to stop them from itching
maybe i shouldn't make you
cold coffee anymore
maybe you should change
the dead bulbs in the house
or maybe i should dye my hair
to make you
love me
again