If you were mine,
I’d make you sweet ginger tea.
I’d draw you a bath with mint and lavender oil.

If you were mine,
I’d fill the house with the smell of fresh baked bread.
I’d make you fresh butter and strawberry jam.

If you were mine,
I’d tuck you in and read to you until you fell asleep.
But your, not mine.

You belong to her so I watch from afar.
And wish.
You were mine.