With twist and turns and crumbled sheets
I lay awake to only hear you speak.
that sweet sound that makes me fly,
the same that made my stomach knot
when you whispered goodbye.
and I long and pray for just one word
and send tiny notes on carrier birds.
to travel distances strange and far
to reach your window pane
somewhere, wherever you are.
and if that pane is frosted white
when these spilled out thoughts
have reached your hand
a year has passed, darling.
believe it or not,
always and forever,
where you left,
I still stand.