maybe later, when we wake up tomorrow
i'll tell you what i want to say--
maybe another time,
when your eyes find themselves dry
and your feet calloused
from walking barefoot
on sandy beaches too far from home
i'll pipe up--
but i know you hurt so deeply,
and i know your heart has withered,
so maybe
i'll keep this sapling
and plant it,
and maybe one day--
you could find solace in its shade
and think offhandedly
of me