I could write about ignorance

and hate,

I could write about

poverty, war,

and family.

I could write about the faces

that they show in the news,

stories that

are too large

to pin down.

And I could write about the trees,

with their leaves hanging

by tiny stems

or the sunset

and whatever color

it decided to be today.

I could write about all these things

that are so important

to the world,

but darling,

all I really want to do

is write about you.