I remember sitting cross-legged
in the backyard with you,
stringing dandelions together
and lazily strumming my guitar
while you rested your head
on my thigh last summer.
I sang soft melodies
and you dreamt that time stopped
and we left this town together. . .*

but alas.

You're too practical,
and I'm too scared,
so here we go again.

You and I are the movie’s trailer,

the first lick of a dripping ice cream cone,

the first snow in winter.

We’re a beginning,

a preview of what could happen,

what would happen if our lives ever align. 

But for now, I’m satisfied with

serendipitous blurs of visits,
occasional tastes of our favorite tea,

and the hope that I’ll enjoy

a fresh *** of Earl Grey 

with you down this winding road.

January

More than anything else, I have to find me first; 
but I don’t want to forget you.

February
"Don’t worry, I’ll tell you until there are no more words to say.” 

You just shook your head. 

I tried to explain when I woke up this morning

just beneath the surface,

but I’d lost my ability to speak.

How strange.

March

I dreamt of my very being

keeping the city safe

up until the day it rained.

April

I finally understood that Love herself 
is a “four letter word”.

May*

Well my darling,

I’ll have to forget me to know where I’ve gone. 

Open your eyes.

June
*
But now you’re gone, just a few days later, 

to keep us both alive.

I held out the matches with no real reason why.

Just go.

July
Just like that, I watch your head spin.

My fingers tingle, and I can breathe.

August

“How do you like it?” 

It's falling together.. 

I’d seen it since the beginning. 

Even so, I miss the days when things were simple.

September* came and went with no evidence or new scars.

October
*
Nature can’t make up her mind about me either.

I still have the pictures to prove it.

November

The music is pure, but I barely notice.

December
*
It’s beautiful,

Getting hopelessly lost
until I can barely distinguish my own penmanship.”