I wanted to see you where the years were kind, inescapably etched and displayed like smooth stones spread out on velvet; but I wouldn't ask. I rummaged through zippers and heavy things.
On a cool summer night we heard a hiss of broken stars across the desert sky and looked up in time to see one pass over head like a science fiction rocket ship. It was a moment with you I will never forget.
It's funny how things are settled or settling and divided by extremes, jealousy - anger - hurt - houses - etched stones - broken stars, stuff you can't find words for, stuff you wish you'd written down, words that end up on gravestones.
So leave me with my imagination and your beauty, maybe some nostalgia as my muse, add one more thing for sure, make my children our children not half - me - half - devil - children and maybe I wouldn't have to run, wouldn't have to start a war.
Maybe I could be happy without your etched stones.