Friday, March 18, 2011

baby girl

we're all skinned knees and bruises,
paper cuts and blisters.

I love you

We're all the wrong sentences made up with the right words,
always wanting, always trying-
and whenever we need to, always fixing

I love you, I love you

We're plasters and warm tea,
scones and ice-cream, peanut-butter and jelly
We're rainy days without an umbrella, sunny days sprawled out on grass,
pictures without a camera, tree-houses in the middle of civilization, picnics beside an empty bench.
Lego pieces out of different boxes

I love you
And I don't say it nearly enough; tell you a world of other things when sometimes,
it's all I mean to say-
For everything that you were, are and will be
For everything that we are, we want and want to be
All the wrong lines scratched out in pencil, 3am songs, two and a half hour phonecalls
and time that disappears into rivers and sunsets and Sunday mornings.
I love you, I love you, I love you.

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