December 08, 2009

three words

Sometimes when I’m alone
I think about it.
Damn, I think about it even when
I’m surrounded.
Think about what it might be like
to say it. To you.
How maybe the world would stop turning
for a split second,
and maybe you might listen more
attentively than ever before.
Maybe the sheets on my bed would turn
to blue,
and my pillow, a ship,
to sail us to the middle of the ocean.
And there I would say it
again,
and again,
and again,
until you saw my words float on top
the rippled surroundings.
And maybe you would say it
too.