comes running through my window
sometimes,
i think i knew you
all my life
and holding the phone in my hand,
maybe, i'll call
or maybe i'll hear
your soft knock at my door
and your sweet
voice
singing along to a song
walt whitman whispers to me
from the nightstand
and i take your letter
from between
your 2 most loved poems
to unfold your words
and unfold the memories
and unfold your love;
while the cat you drew
on page 34
smiles at me
(and, i smile, too)
i knew you
before i loved you
your almond shaped eyes
and the contour of your lips
when you smile
i dreamed of you
before i loved you
and the sun comes running
through my window
and there's a black bird on a telephone wire cawing
and my cat's staring into the fire
where did we go wrong?