How careless one must become

To know the pleasant promise

And solitary expedition

Of a tiny boy thinking.

:ove :oem

I'm late

I understand that

And I'm not interested

in the unusual ways

bugs mate

I don't think

that necessarily

makes good

poetry

But I do think

if I could touch

your hand right

now that would be

good enough

You see

I am very far away

from you

I don't

fully understand

that you could hear me

I am as a

lonely house

without windows

without floors

still

I am missing

I don't know why

our birth dates

are on everything

I touch

I think you

were trying to be

funny by giving me

a hard time

I got that later

I do love

you much

more