it would be lovely to let go,
unfold this scrap of paper
in my backpocket and watch
the red penciled heart
grow wings and take flight
up over these empty acres
blanketed in snow,
through this city with it's
blur of white and yellow lights
burning without break.

in my hand is the lovenote
you left me with, without knowing,
the words you wrote about stars
and the sky and growing old,
the note about life and a love
not as transient as the one
you carry in your heart for me.
in my hand are these words and as
I unfold them I can feel your heart
lifting
up away
from our city and me.