spring (en route)
when the world is puddle-wonderful
[in Just-], e. e. cummings
this is what we wait for
(like a reaching word
from a long-lost lover)
on the other side of winter
relentlessly cold & gray
this warm sunshine caress fulfilling
the aching of our hibernating chests
longing for the return
because we cannot forget
e. e. cummings
children’s Siren voices
new blossoms & balloons
& that first touch
after long separation
so when spring finally sweeps over me
it says to me what i want to say to you
through pollen-dusted lips against your ear:
“i gave you the Milan Kundera novel
because i was looking for some way to say ‘i love you’
& i was afraid ‘i love you’ just wasn’t enough.”
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