Truthfully, my  words are written  with
your laugh pulsing in my veins. I want
to write  haikus on  your fingertips,
sonnets down the  length of your
spine, press my spoken  word
ramblings  into the curve of
your bottom lip until you
finally  get  that I cannot
leave you because you
are every  syllable  I
have  written  for
almost  a  year
now.