• Never has your name appeared
    marginalized in my notes,
    with desperate repetition.
    A one word letter to a boy.

    Notes didn't pass between us
    nervous in high school hallways.
    Anyway, I was never
    good at those careful, complex folds.

    Where are those midnight battles?
    Love unfolding to reveal
    the darker side of passion.
    But I can't find the hate in us.

    Are we strange, then? Let's be so.
    Spend our midnights lost, shopping.
    Laugh at ferrets or zombies.
    I'll write you hope, you draw me dreams.