Love is a walk around the autumn pond
My heart resides on the paper in my pocket
I almost wrapped it in a box
To leave at your doorstep

Your cologne and cigarettes stain my hair
When you wrap me in the fabric of your forearms
Lets sit on leaf-scattered grass
Hold a picnic in the middle of December
Lets bring French coffee and pancakes

Too

Much is never enough
As I tattooed feathers on my arms
They are your feathers
Dipped in the ink
From the sonnets you wrote to me
On my paper in the front pocket
Of these worn in jeans.