you’ll touch every single scale of my heart
and swallow me in the longest hug
until feathers bloom on my back.
you’ll run dragging a kite, bright red coated in ice
and say “See! I’ve put it all aside”.
you’ll take my hand and drag me
to the sea that drove us apart:
we’ll plop down and take turns
drinking and laughing until we touch sand.
you’ll grow a thousand tulips in the dark,
invite me to collect them, run
and leave one at each door that crosses our path.
you’ll track down the Giant Pearl and leave it in its shell
just to prove you have heart –
you can’t pry a mollusc and her pain apart.
You’ll lay on the ground while mustangs run in the wild
to show that you don’t budge
when you make up your mind.
you’ll boil a potion from blackberries and forget-me-nots
to drink before waltzing and before saying goodbye.
you’ll paint us free from the world
and shake hands with Mephisto to keep us alive.
you’ll build a castle of dirt, spit, and blood,
lock me at East and feast on my mind.
you’ll dock the Moon at my window
so I can see clearly in your eyes.
you’ll turn into captain Nemo and sing
giant tides and sea monsters lullabies.
you’ll bring me King Midas’ gift
and you’ll roam free from my touch.
you’ll forget your claim to my heart
and you’ll ask me what I want
so we’ll both wake up.