i wish i could take the letters in the typewriter hiding behind my eyes and let them dance into your skin from the touch of my hand

you know how much i love poetry

and touching you feels a lot like poetry.

we can talk for hours

the sweet sounds of good words satisfy our hungry souls

whether they are spoken or sung

or scribbled on sheet music

we like them all.

and we like to wonder.

floating on water rafts of curious thoughts

letting our questions intertwine in our fingers

until a basket of a story is held in our hands.

i must thank you for the times you grabbed my gaze

and told me that intelligence is not measured in capital letters.

but letters are all i've ever really known

i am a poet you know

but, you remind me, poetry is not written in uppercase.

poetry in the air between us in the car

with a quivering hand and words wilting behind the whites of our eyes

pouring onto a small napkin

poetry is not written in capital letters