s

i want us to be nightingales, gypsying over the yellow candle lights of a city without electricity. the laughing moon will be over our heads and we, plus our shadows make four, will dance through the sky and earth, while children stuck in stopped trains point to us squealing "look, oh my, look!"

s

i want to be three inches tall, trying to catch the songs dangling out of your mouth with a butterfly net

s

i want you to be the wind knocking on my window at this very moment