id write you a love poem,
with intricate rose lace and
cough syrup kisses.
id weave you a spider web of
wooly sweaters and butterfly blessings,
and stir your soup when
the candle is snuffed.
id count your freckles
like grains of sand and
mourn when the icy wind
scares them south.

but instead, I baked you
cookies and drew you airplanes. I sang a tune to the
rhythm of my heart, with your smile in mind.
and I now the calendar and I stand still in
a frozen stance as we wait for
december.

so, instead of writing love poems with
shimmering gold eyes and
autumn colored chuckles,
ill count the seconds
to our hands sharing space under a
single confetti spotlight.
I'll see you there.