a meeting, of sorts.

Your lips are roads, your hips are open fields, your hands are city streets....
          and
               I
                    like a
  fluttering whisper
                          in the
                                  w i n d.
am

                 lost




in your love.

I'm              lost

              ,

never to be found. I must go now, but I've come to stay forever.

When I'm gone,

                blow a

                                  k i s s

my way. So that I may catch it with the

r
 a
  y
   s of the                                         sun.


B  i  l  l  o  w  i  n  g

down
on
my
back,

much Like
         the stacks
                  Out of my lungs.

i'Ve found, some
            thing, i will nEver
                     lose again.