I am in love with a girl.
And she smells like Sunday.

I don't know if you realize it,
But you're climbing out of the pit.

I wrote your name
on a piece of paper
traced all the letters
and spelled all the pain
I kept buried deep within.

Perhaps I must send you
a letter today
and be it a reminder
of how cupid once
pulled an arrow
for you and me

ten years ago

on a sunny
Valentine's day.