I hear it in my head
when I read her new poems.
Part of me wants to run away
and surprise her in Paris,
fall in love, etc.
Part of me wants to live forever
in inside jokes and poems,
the flirtatious beginnings.
We'll go to Clippery for coffee,
meet her friends in Frunch,
and have dinner in Clody.
My thunderstorm mornings
are better because of her,
weather she knows it or not.