know that when I write you
in lower case
is when I'm feeling like
guitar strings when they
are listening to the
music silence weaves
many middles of spiral notebooks
have seen a sudden midnight inspiration
sleep stained haiku
that may never get discovered
they make a home
in dusty corners of my heart
using melancholy as hats
we'd often use buttery yellow
or the colour that night is
when moving towards resembling
wings of a dragonfly
on the walls of this house
the morning sun
nestling comfortably among
the dreams that left my eyelashes
you went rat-a-tatting
at my kitchen door
stood silent among my garden herbs
