Why can’t we build a tree house?
In our own backyard behind the sky
away from a wailing world
far from where we lay and die
Why can’t we build a tree house?
To house and hold our dreams
our pictures pitched on wooden planks
’we were once ere’ inscribed on beams
A heart etched in a tree stump
Below where our forbidden kisses are found
No one to discover our hidden bites
Unless we let the ladder down
Our insecurities were safe up here
while I sketched your naked skin
every curvature and crease of secrecy
You read your poetry and let me in
on our backs, we gazed at the night sky
we sipped wine or drank some tea
In silence we shared unspoken words
wondering if stars have a tree
And now often I wish upon a star
now your another’s spouse
…are you happy?

…or dreaming of the same star
with our own tree house?

Rain is washing its tears
from your longing promises
with the spray of the sea
vanishing on ***** winds.

Rain is washing its tears
from your salty kisses
with cuddly shadowy trees
and thirsty green leaves.

Rain is washing its tears
from your sweet words
with poetic unvoiced verses
drunken by unknown love.

Rain is washing its tears
from your burning pain
with the rays of the sun
drops’smile in flowers beds.

I wish we lived in a place
where the sun never went under the horizon
because you said you’d leave at dark
and I don’t think my eyes can adjust
I wish we lived atop a mountain
because when I told you to take a hike
I didn’t really mean it
I don’t want you to leave
I wish we lived in a tree house,
because when i told you that you were childish
it was more out of jealousy than disbelief
I wanted to be childish with you
I wish we lived in a castle
because you are always on your high horse,
not meaning that in anyway
other than you’re the one that lifts me up
I wish we lived anywhere other than here,
because here isn’t here anymore,
without you.

The tree house, the swings, the memories
You built it, and you need to tear it down
To make way for a new pool deck
But by you tearing it down
You're just reassuring me of the fact
That my childhood has almost past
I remember so many times being up there
Sleeping up there
Doing homework
Swinging
Rolling around in sleeping bags
Laughing and enjoying life
I would rather it not go
I love its presence, always reminding me
That however old I get, there is always magic
There is some place to go and hide
Even if there are bees, I could still go up there and escape
I could sit, all bundled up in my Eskimo snow suit in winter
And witness the stillness of the new fallen snow
I whittled names into its support wood
So it would always remember
I guess I'm being selfish not wanting to share my own piece of childhood
But we all have that thing that we don't want to give up
Even if we outgrow it in a sense
But I will be happy in the sense that another child may climb up on the steps
Look out from the top and imagine they are the top of the world
For all the time that they can