Do you want to talk about me
the way I talk about you?
Do you want to put my name in
every sentence
just so it sounds like you're calling me,
like I'm near?
Do you want to carve numbers in tree barks
to etch a memory of our each
and every date?
Do you want to call me a nickname,
one that only I will have?
Do you want to casually
slip your hand in mine
(when we head out in a group)
snake your arm around my waist
or give me a peck on the cheek
when I blurt out something cute?
Do you want to write your name,
and then mine,
on the beaches of the world
so that even the armies going to war
wielding guns and in fighter planes
will hover for a bit
to reminisce what it feels like not to hurt,
but to love, instead?
Do you, however, (like me)
do none of these things,
but simply carry my heart in yours
in silence
and in secret joy? For
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