Emily and I share a birthday
the odds of course which, are 1 in 365
I wonder if she would pay it any mind
if I were to relay that fact to her
in time traveling letters
We'd diss the Romantics
in our clinging to things old fashioned
But perhaps in some sort of
airy heaven mystic light
feather backed eunuchs deemed
our mutual yearly markers Holy
We share introversions too
So I know not to peak behind her cloudy veil
when it's my turn to hike the steps
of the colossal celestial mansion
I'll just listen to see if you have a Boston accent
or send soaring aeroplanes, if you prefer
with fresh ink drops sliding off into sky
Before I go up there, I may ask my sister too
to burn all my poems, delete them also
Wondering when you request'd the same
did you not care 'bout words lost to air?