Year of writing 110. 20/30

4/20/12

I want to let go
of all these balloon
strings, fall into your
breakwater arms and
breathe like sleep.

I want to be a rag doll;
you to be six years old.
Velveteen Rabbit me,
love me threadbare and
missing stuffing.

I want to be the pause
in your speech, the involuntary
catch in your throat when you
see something beautiful
in the corner of your eye.

I want to be the grass
at your feet, evening shaded
blue.  Sink your toes here,
it's been a long day and it's
fixing to be a beautiful night.