I have
yet to write you
a proper love song.
One that
transforms
paper
into a love-note,
an origami
of folded words
for you
to tuck inside your heart.

I do not say the things
I should

...my heart is a bird....

...you are the sun.....

...I love your skin....

those words seem
broken.
Too used. Too expected.

My love songs say

..you are vodka shots
clear, burning,
blue eyes like
prussian on my palette..

...you are my necessity...

....you string me tight on your wires..

I have yet
to write you a proper
love song.

04/26/2002

Posted on 04/26/2002
Copyright © 2026 Vikki Owens