counting on clothes pins
how long I can stand
to see you across the fence
and not climb over,
risking the sting of the barbed wire.
I'd do it, you know.
I'd do it for you,
cut all my corners
and leave all of my things,
but you told me
'be patient, and always sing'
and I do and you listen,
and you smile so broadly.
I wait and you wave
and we live inside the folds of two page notes
we pass though the tiny holes
in the far side of the fence.